Remembering
by MEM-SEV
Summary: Some secrets only come out years later. Some promises are hard to keep. Wilfred Mott and Sylvia Noble have kept theirs for most of their lives. A Journey's End Fix-it.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I woke up this morning with this fully formed in my head. I own nothing but the writing.

"Wait!" Wilf calls out as the Doctor turns to go. There is something in his voice; something forceful that makes the Time Lord pause, even as Donna turns to look at her grandfather in shock. "Wait," he says again, looking between the two confused pairs of eyes. Sylvia, hearing his raised voice, hurries in from the kitchen, her eyes once again dry and curious, as they always are when her father commands. Wilf meets her eyes solemnly, the grief in him clear on his face. The Doctor seems hesitant, but walks into the room, stands carefully a few feet away from Donna, his face tense and barely hiding his heartache.

Donna senses the weight of the situation, even as she wonders what is going on, her face an open book to her grandfather. She absently hangs up on Nerrys, cutting off the chatter mid-sentence. "Gramps?" she asks when he just stands there for a moment, paralysed by what needs to be done. His eyes, barely dry from the Doctor's explanations, water again as he turns a quick look towards his daughter. He sees the moment she understands his intention, sees her hard mask slam into place to cover her grief and denial. He steels himself and turns to the two who are watching him with some trepidation.

"I need you to wait, Doctor," he says, and ignored the harsh look on his face at the use of his name, "Just a moment; I've something to show the two of you." His voice is more serious than it has ever been. Sylvia whimpers, a desperate sound full of fear and regret, but she doesn't protest. Instead she turns and walks stiffly to the kitchen table, never meeting her daughter's eyes. Wilf gestures for the two to join her.

Both the Doctor and Donna have sensed that there is something happening that they don't know about. He gestures silently, again encouraging them to join his daughter. The pair exchanges a baffled glance in perfect synchrony, but do as they are bid. Wilf draws a sigh of relief, hope starting to dig its treacherous claws into his heart, a painful thing bubbling around in his mind. He nods encouragingly at the people seated at the table, then turns swiftly. That glance puts a certainty in his steps, and he hurries as fast as his old legs can carry him, up the stairs and farther, into the tiny attic.

In the far corner, a box rests. It's a simple box, somewhat smaller than the others. The cardboard is still stiff and uncreased, and shows no signs of ever having been opened since it were packed. It isn't heavy; Wilf feels not a twinge in his old back as he lifts it. He hurries down again, towards the kitchen, ignoring how the cardboard leaves visible patches of dust on his jumper, how the dust of the attic clings to him.

The three are still sitting as he left them, an awkward silence, tinged with bitter regret, heartache, and confusion filling the space between them. Donna keeps shooting concerned glances between a man she doesn't remember and her mother. Sylvia is crying, Wilf notes in dismay, silent tears flowing down weathered cheeks, her delicate hands folded on the table, eyes focused on the middle distance.

The Doctor's gaze lingers, as it always does, on Donna. Wilf can tell that he is unaware of how much his broken heart is on display.

They all turn and follow his progress as he walks in, eyes turning curious as they notice the box he is carrying. Sylvia gives a strangled sob as she finally recognises it. Wilf places a gentling hand on her shoulder as he passes, then gently places the box on the table.

"I'm sorry, Sylvia, but I made a promise to Donna." The words are quiet but firm as steel. She nods brokenly, a hand wiping at her tears as she pulls herself together.

Wilf can tell that it is the seriousness of his interaction with his daughter that keeps Donna from asking. She has always had good instincts like that, he thinks fondly, even as he opens the box and unpacks the contents. First several albums, each stuffed full of memories he has tried hard to suppress for his family's sake, then a small jewellers box, of the kind that might hold a bracelet. He solemnly places each item on the table, then moves the box out of the way, a wave of melancholy gripping his old heart, mingling with hope.

He looks up and smiles shakily at his granddaughter and the Doctor, then gently reaches for the first album and opens it. His hand, and eyes, lingers for a moment, before he straightens his back and flips the album to face Donna and the Doctor. The album itself is old and worn, the pages stiff and dusty, but the pictures themselves are vibrant, unfaded.

The first page is just one portrait-sized picture.

The sky is a brilliant cyan behind the mountains in the background, all purple and silver. There are trees in the foreground, framing a couple of people. Their branches are blue, and in decidedly alien forms.

Wilf watches confusion flow across both of their faces when they recognise one of the people as Donna, her long fiery hair in a perky pony tail, and dressed in what might be called a frock-coat in dark brown, over a decidedly Victorian looking ensemble. It takes a while before they recognise the other person, almost minute if Wilf had to guess. The young features are split by a wide grin, one arm slug around Donna's shoulders.

Donna looks up first, eyes flicking between the photo and Wilf, comparing features. He meets her eyes with a small but growing smile. The Doctor seems frozen, eyes fixed on the picture as if it holds the keys to the universe.

"That was our first trip. Feldspoon, you called it." Wilf says to Donna. A deep crease appears between her eyebrows. The Doctor is focused on him now, a heavy confusion mingled with disbelief on his features.

Wilf gestures mildly to the album, and then gently flips a page to the next picture, eyes catching Donna's. "There were many others, following that." Donna grabs the album, and flicks through it with increasing agitation. "I don't.." She starts, meeting Wilf eyes, hers full of fear and a glimmer of dawning recognition.

He sees her fight it.

"I don't understand, Gramps." Wilfs heart near breaks at her tone. Sylvia whimpers softly, cupping her face in her hands to hide her reaction, then swiftly gathers her dignity around her Ike a cloak. Wilf breaks eye-contacts and picks up the small case, flipping the lid and pensively staring at the contents. He looks up and meets her eyes again, this time with a sad smile, before he gently extricates a fob-watch from the jeweller's case.

The Doctor is the one who makes a strangled noise this time, his expressive face awash with shock and the beginnings of hope. Donna flicks her gaze towards him at the sound, but quickly refocuses on the watch as if drawn by a magnet. "Gramps?" she asks quietly, her hands reaching for the watch. He hands it over silently, watches her gaze at it, her mind visibly trying to work it all out.

"You chose 'Donna' as your name as a sort of joke. Means 'Lady'" Wilf says, emotion choking his voice. He's not sure if he is ready for this loss, but the alternative is unthinkable. She looks at him questioningly over the watch. "I never knew your real name, of course I didn't. When we were travelling together," Wilf pauses and gently strokes at the albums, the memory of mountains gently swaying in the breeze flashing behind his eyes.

He smiles at her, humour finding his eyes. "You used to call yourself The Tinker, Tink for short. Laughed yourself sick when you took us to see Peter Pan in the cinema." Sylvia snorts just slightly, a fond smile forcing its way onto her face. She grabs one of the albums, flips through it until she finds what she is looking for.

There is another old picture. Wilf is older in this one, a grown man, with his arms wrapped around a beaming Eileen. Donna is standing on the other side of Eileen, and has an arm casually slung across Eileen's shoulders. In front of the trio stands a small girl of perhaps nine, blond hair full of curls and a large smile on her face. Sylvia looks up from the picture, tears slipping from her eyes as she meets Donna's blue. "That was a great day," she chokes out, "travelling with Aunt Tink." She stops and doesn't continue, one hand absently stroking the picture.

Wilf looks at the Doctor. He is still frozen in his seat. "It was the Time War, you see," he tries to explain, "they were using her inventions for weapons. They wanted her to make more." He continues. "It was my idea for her to hide here, as long as she needed."

Donna stares at the photos, mesmerised.

The Doctor stands abruptly, and then paces the length of the kitchen twice. He sits down heavily in the chair he had just vacated, and slumps foreword to rest his head in his hands. Wilf doesn't comment, pretends that he can't hear the stifled sob that escapes.

Donna looks up from the pictures and glances between her remaining family. "I don't understand," she says, but Wilf can hear the uncertainty of it; can hear the barely concealed fear. Parts of her understand.

"You will, sweetheart." He says gently. She had been his best friend, and his granddaughter. Her hands are gripping the watch tightly, her knuckles white with the strain. He grasps them, gently holding them between his own.

"Open the watch, Sweetheart." He says, and she does.


	2. Chapter 2

There isn't any great flash of light, or sound, though Donna almost expects there to be. The fob-watch is warm in her hands, and when she pushes the release it warms gently. Well, it glows too, but it doesn't flash. The golden glow is at once terribly alien and comfortingly familiar. The gaseous light that emerges seems almost alive, moving hesitantly, swaying like dust disturbed by a breath, yet curiously purposeful.

It seems to pool near her face, swaying slightly in the space between herself and that strangely familiar friend of her grandfather in the seat beside her. Donna almost forgets that something is supposed to happen, mesmerised by he movement. It catches her by surprise, then, when it suddenly surges towards her, going straight for her face.

"Oi!" she yells in surprise and nearly knocks over her chair as she hurriedly leans back. Much to late to make a difference.

It has already reached her, and her vision clouds.

There are no flashes of insight, no slide-shows of memories. Her eyes cloud with regenerative energy, and suddenly she just knows. Who she is, where she came from, what she had run from, and it's all just there again. It's as if some wind came and blew the fog out of her mind.

Strange, she thinks, that Donna Noble, her human life, hasn't faded at all. The expected disconnect doesn't happen, Donna Noble is not swallowed by Tink.

Well, she thinks to herself, Donna was Tink, just slightly less so. Donna Noble and Tink the Time Lady, and she can't help but snort at the name again, are the same person. Her eyes flick down to the picture that Sylvia had found, and she nearly starts laughing. She had taken the Mott family to see Peter Pan on opening night, in 1953. Was it Florida or California? She can't remember, silly details like that easily slipping her mind. She had been so pleased to bring her substitute family to see it, she thinks fondly, it had been a good day.

Donna reaches out and gently runs a finger across the glossy photo. "A Family Adventure," she mutters quietly. Not quietly enough, the others hear her. Wilf laughs softly. She looks up and meets the eyes of her best-friend/grandfather, and giggles along with him for a moment. There is a part of her that cringes away when she suddenly really notices him. He looks so old now, they have so little time left.

Sylvia sniffles quietly, and it catches Donna's attention. When Donna looks at her, it is suddenly hard to separate Sylvia who is her mother, from Sylvia the adorable, if very headstrong, little girl who called her aunt Tink.

There is a resigned look on her features as she sits there and scans Donna with her eyes. "Hi again, Aunt Tink," Sylvia says, her voice barely audible. Donna isn't sure how to respond at first. The time spent as Donna Noble vastly eclipses the time she was 'Aunt Tink' to the daughter of her best friend. Sylvia had been more of a mother than the woman who raised her originally ever was. "Hey, Mum." She ends up responding with feeling. Sylvia's eyes spill over, then she seems to remember herself, straightening and drying off her eyes with a dismissive sniff. Donna smiles, then suddenly remembers that she isn't alone with her family.

She turns swiftly in her chair to face the strange man that claims to be her grandfather's friend. The sense of 'Time Lord' slaps her across the olfactory system like a brick to the gut, and for a moment she sits there utterly stunned. Her eyes scan his face, feeling a distinct sense of recognition, but no corresponding memories rush forward.

There are drying tears on his face, the oddly mismatched features looking at her with such hope that she feels almost uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "Donna?" he asks hopefully and his warm voice, so full of concern and other emotions she can't name, pings something in her mind. There is a..

"Whot?! Why the effing hell do I have a memory block in my head?" she yells in his face, completely certain, for whatever reason, that he is the one responsible. The yelling itself is really satisfying for some reason, as is the utterly dumbfounded expression on his face, brown eyes wide, jaw slack.

He stays that way for almost a minute before reacting. "I, I, that is..er, I thought you were human!" he suddenly exclaims with enthusiasm, as if that will clear everything up. She glares, deeply unimpressed. Apparently realising that his answer is unsatisfactory, he continues in a flood of babble from which she gathers that some form of badly done meta-crisis is to blame.

"Well, I am clearly not human, you great berk! So get rid of it." She cuts in before he can get too far off in Babylonia, and then she punches his shoulder without really knowing why. It feels natural, so she goes with it, then grabs a hand and puts it to her face. She imperiously gestures for him to get on with it, certain that this is going to be unpleasant. The mental touch is achingly familiar, so they've clearly done this before, probably more than once, she manages to think before she remembers.

It isn't like the Chameleon arch at all.

The memories of the last two years explode into her mind. They flow through her like a tsunami, carrying them both through it all, tangled mentally together like a snarl of kudzu. Donna cries for the people of Pompeii once again, feeling the grief and the terrible burden of their lives. A swell of music starts somewhere that fills her hearts with freedom and captivity, and she remembers the Ood.

There is Lance, the first time she meets this impossible man, and the Adipose, the second time. Her hearts clench and break when Jenny steps out of the (is that a loom? Where did these people get a loom?!) cloning machine, only to die later that same day. The library is just as terrifying the second time, and she is suddenly aware of a deeply rooted irritation with the woman that saved them, that she isn't sure she felt the first time.

There is a certain horror in her gut when they go through the memories of the alternate world, and then she commits suicide to save this man. She feels him recoil, try to draw back, but the link they are engaged in wont let him. She feels nearly sick at the memory of what that madwoman had done to the Doctor's TARDIS, feels herself gag violently, and mentally takes back any positive thoughts she might have thought towards Rose Tyler.

Then they are at the crucible of the Daleks. Donna thinks they must almost be done, so she calms herself and goes forward with renewed vigour. When Tink realises how Rose had returned to this world, she shrieks with mental anguish. No! So much death could have been avoided! She yells at the apparition of the young blond, and ignores the swell of guilt that flows from the Doctor. When they reach the meta-crisis, she almost expects something else to suddenly jump out at her that Human Donna had missed. It does, just not what she would have ever believed.

Instead of continuing through her own memories, she is suddenly flooded with his.

She is nearly knocked out by the power of the memories that flow through her as the life of the Doctor is poured into her. She flinches with the knowledge that he is of house Lungbarrow, those high-born tossers, then speaks out with him against the idiocy of the Time War, and cries with him when he uses the Moment to Time Lock their home planet, dooming them to be the last free people of their kind. The switch back to Donna's own memories leaves her dazed , and she barely notices anything, even her own thick and frantic emotions as she begs him to let her die rather than forget. When she blinks back to the kitchen of Sylvia Noble, she has the collected memories of two Time Lords running havoc in her mind.

Donna just stares at him for a while, noting that he seems about as dazed as she feels. A tickle in her mind snaps her out of it, and she punches his arm again, hard. He flinches back and rubs his arm, a wounded expression on his face, and that is when she realises that there is a link between them, and that he is completely oblivious to it. Donna feels his joy at their reunion, his relief piled on top of hers.

Donna keeps staring at him. "Oooh, lord!" she groans in exasperation when he just stares back, "you bleedin pillock!" she snaps at him, tempted to hit him again. "Where the heck you get off, wiping my memories while I beg you not to?" she bites out, though it is more a statement than a question. With his entire life in her head, she knows why. He doesn't answer, just rubs at his arm some more, and mutters a plaintive 'owww'.

Donna rolls her eyes again. Part of her really wants to be angry with him, but she can't be. If he hadn't done what he did, then she would have died never knowing, well, anything.

That is a bitter pill to swallow, because she is still Donna Noble, and Donna Noble would rather have died than forget their adventures, forget who she was with him.

There is an awkward sort of silence between them now. Donna nearly startles out of her skin when Wilf clears his throat. "So, is it back to Tink, then?" he asks her, after she has turned in his direction again. It is a tone she has heard from him innumerable times during their travels together. Uncertainty, buried under acceptance. It takes some effort to smooth the martian-inspired glare from her face, but she does it for Wilf. Then runs through her thoughts again, and snorts with laughter. Couldn't really call him that anymore.

She meets her best-friend/Grandfather's eyes with a warm smile. "Donna is fine, Gramps.I've gotten pretty used to it now." She answers kindly. Donna straightens in her chair a bit."Heck if you didn't treat me like family should. I'm certainly not disowning you." She goes for one of her more boisterous tones, one that both of her had used numerous times, and is pleased that she succeeds in getting Wilf to smile. Donna moves without much thought and nearly climbs over the table to wrap him in a hug, reaching one arm out and drawing Sylvia in as well. A tension that she had been unaware of, slowly seeps out of the people in her arms.

Donna gently releases the two, then lets herself slide back into her chair with a satisfied hum. She is surrounded by people she trust, the last time she had been this relaxed was..She sits straighter in her chair and focuses on Wilf. "Wilf, what happened to my TARDIS?"


	3. Chapter 3

Donna latches on to the Doctor's arm as they amble after Wilf. The old man is walking briskly towards his allotment, cheerfully humming along to some song only he can hear. Donna hasn't seen him this happy for ages, and it startles her to realise how much she's missed it. Wilf has always been a kind and compassionate man, always with a smile and a friendly gesture for anyone. She hadn't noticed before, not really, how it seemed like he was carrying a large weight on his shoulders until it had been lifted. She feels bad about being the cause of that, but wouldn't have done things differently.

The Doctor has been oddly quiet, she thinks to herself, not sure if she should point that out or not. He keeps sending her these looks when he thinks she isn't looking, as if he can't quite believe what is happening. Donna can sort of understand that, she can, but it seems out of character for him. She expects him to start in with a million questions at any moment, but he just walks silently besides her. If it weren't for the quiet joy she senses through the nearly dormant link between their minds, she would think he was angry with her. She shivers against the cold, though she can't feel it as much as she used to, and tucks her chin into the scarf she threw on as they left the house. It is mostly a psychological reaction, she knows that. It has only been a few hours since they saved the whole of creation, after all, and so much has happened since.

They trudge along, up the hill until they are standing in a familiar spot. Donna looks around the small allotment, taking it in with new/old eyes. She and Wilf have spent so many hours here, staring up at the sky and looking for aliens. She turns a wry grin on the old man, who is standing by the door to his small shed with a nearly smug grin on his face.

"Oh you, all those conversations about aliens!" she cheerfully snips at him, letting go of her fellow Time Lord, then walks over and wraps her arms around the grinning human.

Wilf chuckles mischievously into her scarf and hugs her tightly. "Ah, my Donna, when was I ever going to miss that opportunity to know more about the universe than you? It was a nice change." She huffs playfully into his hat, too fond to be annoyed, and rocks him sideways a few times before stepping back. Donna looks around with a curious gaze. Nothing is different from the last time she was here. She tries to ignore their silent companion as he just stands where she left him; watching them with an odd grin on his face. Donna looks around again, this time with a more critical eye, trying to spot any tells that might give away her TARDIS' location. A slight nervousness takes root, an irrational fear that maybe she wont find it.

Wilf watches her look around with a smug grin on his face. It should get on her nerves, but it never has, not in the 67 years she has known him. She takes one last look around, before throwing her hands up in defeat. "Alright, Gramps, you and Baby win this round. Where is he?" she asks, trying not to let her nerves shine through in her voice. This is an old game between the three of them, and she is out of practice.

There is a twinge in her mind, so familiar and welcome that she almost cries in relief. She spins on her heel, and finds herself facing the old shed that Wilf uses to store his tools. She doesn't understand at first. Donna has been in and out of that shed hundreds, if not thousands of times, during her Human life. Wilf brushes past her with a gentle pat on her shoulder, and walks over to the door. He pulls out a key from some pocket and inserts it in a lock. For a moment, she isn't sure that the lock has always been there. Who puts a lock on a ramshackle old shack? It must have been, but then Wilf opens it and she is reunited with her Baby. The Perception Filter breaks its hold.

The mind reaching out to her is dimmed by years of deactivation. All of her inadvertent visits have given Baby just enough energy to maintain a healthy stasis, to Donna's relief. She just stands there for a moment, letting the symbiotic link she has shared with her ship since it was first activated, reestablish. Once the link is properly stable she scrambles to the door, almost bowling over Wilf in her hurry. The door flies open at her touch, and she is through it with a loud whoop. "Mama's home, Baby!" she cries out, and has to stop herself from hugging the central pillar. Baby hums a warm welcome, and throws metaphysical arms around her in a mental embrace, which she returns.

The interior of her TARDIS looks very little like the nearly organic Coral structure of the Doctor's old Model TT 40. Her baby is sleek and shiny, made out in shades of copper and moss, and very modern to look at. A proper space-ship she giggles mentally, a Ferrari if there ever was one. Donna feels a bit bad over the thought almost immediately, having grown very fond of the Old Girl during her travels with the Doctor. Baby hums a jealous note in her mind, scanning her memories as she stands there. The tone changes slightly the further Baby gets into her memories, so Donna pays it no mind.

She hasn't been there for more than a few seconds before she twirls in place and walks back to the door. Wilf is leaning slightly against the side of the shed, looking in with a happy smile on his aged face. The Doctor,on the other hand, is standing where she left him, several paces away. He looks unaccustomedly uncertain, shifting from foot to foot, his hands deep in his pockets, and eyes focused downward.

Donna rolls her eyes at the sight. "Oi, you prawny streak of nothing! Get over here and meet my TARDIS." She calls out, letting a bit of annoyance into her words, then turns and drags Wilf into the interior. Well, drags is perhaps not accurate, as Wilf needs no encouragement. Donna walks slowly around the console, pretending indifference to whether or not the Doctor follows her command or not, and absently starts up a system diagnostic. Everything looks good, she thinks to herself, for a ship that has spent the last thirty-some years in stasis. It'll take a while before Baby is in perfect order again, and he definitely needs a trip or two into the vortex to refuel.

The moment the Doctor steps past the threshold Donna is aware of a flash of apprehension-tinged surprise through their link. Baby seems to stutter in response, and releases an audible squeak. Donna hurries to recheck his systems, because that is most definitely not normal, and she is completely unprepared for what happens next. Baby mentally rushes the Doctor, bouncing against his mind like a super exited puppy. He seems confused, but judging by what she can sense of Baby, he reacts with his usual open friendliness. "Erm, your TARDIS is very, friendly?" he says as she tries to make sense of the reaction. Baby has always hated other Time Lords stepping in. Donna had been looking forward to 'calling him off' her friend. She throws a cross glare at the Doctor, who responds with a baffled look. "Not usually," she mutters under her breath. Baby had hated everyone but her, even her fellow pilots way back when.

"Oh?" he asks with an annoyingly innocent look on his face, and runs a hand through his hair. Donna watches him as he walks towards the console and pokes something curiously. She has to restrain herself from snapping at him. It is hardly his fault, she doesn't think, that Baby has taken a liking to him.

Donna leaves the two puttering about the control room, walking swiftly down the moss-green corridor towards the maintenance bay. It takes her hardly any time to set up and run the first of the many emergency reconstruction protocols. The stasis had necessitated the expunging of most of the excess data stored in the core, including most of the recreational areas, the bunk rooms and the kitchen. The data-matrix patterns were stored safely, but the reconstruction would take some time. She doesn't look up when the Doctor steps into the large room and looks around, though she keeps part of her attention on him anyway. Donna is a bit surprised at how tense she is over having her friend with her here.

"So," the Doctor starts, not meeting her eyes, and does that stupid thing he does, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Um, your TARDIS," Donna is rather annoyed that he doesn't continue past that. She huffs loudly at him, finishes the start up, and walks over to stand beside him. "Yeah, my TARDIS, I call him BABY." She says and folds her arms defensively across her chest, wondering if he is going to get to his point.

He stays silent, looking at her over the frames of his glasses, with a questioning look. Donna slaps a hand against his shoulder, then moves to the lone cabinet to fetch a few tools. "Yeah, my TARDIS, grew him myself, heck I designed him. We worked with the Temporal Engineering Core, moved to Emergency Engineering when the fighting started." She explains as she throws open the cabinet and grabs the small tool-belt that is hung on the door. She clips it on under her jacket, and slips a few tools, among them her own sonic screwdriver, into the waiting slots. "Well, before the rest of the crew ended up dead, and BABY and I decided to do a runner." She grabs a few doo-hickeys and doodads, then turns and walks out. She hides a small smile as she hears him scramble to keep up.

"Right, if I am not mistaken, you fly a Model TT 40, probably needs a tune up after travelling with you." She says in a tone that clearly communicates that she doesn't expect him to answer. "Well.." He drawls out in that way he does when he's a bit embarrassed, "I do have some experience with maintenance, Donna, it isn't like I haven't taken care of the Old Girl." Donna flicks a dismissive look in his direction as they make their way into the console room. Wilf wanders in at the same time, wearing what looks suspiciously like a hat from one of their trips. "You might do maintenance, Doctor, but I design and repair. I'll leave the Doctoring to you, but you better let me do the engineering." Donna leaves no room for him to argue the point, though she can tell he wants to.

He hesitates. "So.." He starts again, and this time she does not restrain the annoyed glare. He catches it this time and hurries on. "So, you still want to travel with me, now that you have your own?" the Doctor asks, and suddenly Donna realises that the quiet is based in uncertainty. She stops abruptly, completely flummoxed by the question. It hadn't even occurred to her that they wouldn't travel together.

"Well, yeah!" she almost yells a moment later, "Of course, you great lump. I told you I was going to travel with you forever." She pauses, and stares into his eyes, abruptly uncertain of her welcome. "Don't tell me you suddenly decided that forever is too long, when it is ACTUALLY forever?" she asks, not quite as loudly. A huge grin blooms across his face, and she finds herself enveloped in a hug.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor practically skips the entire way back to the Mott-Noble home. Donna tries to be annoyed at it, but he's just so happy that she can't help but be happy too. BABY is safely locked up on the allotment, the perception filter slipping easily back in place with the turn of a key. His song is a gentle refrain in her mind, chattering away in wordless whispers about everything she's been through while he slept, and neatly drowning out any feedback she might get from the Doctor.

Donna and Wilf walk arm in arm, while the Doctor walks slightly ahead like an excited child. He turns back to look at them occasionally, walking backwards, as if he is unsure that they are keeping up. It starts out cute, but by the time they make it to his TARDIS, conveniently parked just across from the Noble house, she is almost ready to slap him. Wilf laughs when she gestures to the Doctor and rolls her eyes. "Silly bugger," she chuckles as he flings open the blue door and nearly dances into the console room. She tries to follow, but Wilf pulls her aside just outside the doors.

"Listen, Sweetheart," he starts, and Donna has an odd moment of being both touched by the moniker and remembering quite clearly that she had told him not to call her that, back when he was a much younger man. "I'm going to go in and join Sylvia for some tea. You and the Doctor, you have your fun, and come back to visit soon, alright?" he says, his trademark gentle smile a bit wider than usual. He is still wearing that silly hat on his head, and the effect is fantastic; she can't help grin back at him. "Well, I don't think we're going very far tonight, Gramps, except into the vortex so I can run some diagnostics on Old Girl here," she explains with a grin and a fond gesture to the anachronistic blue box.

Wilf pats her arm fondly. "You might mean to do that, but we all know that isn't how it goes, usually." He says with a knowing twist to his lip. "I haven't forgotten what it was like running with you, Tink, and I don't think running with him is any different." She starts to argue that they never got in the kind of trouble that she and the Doctor get into, but can't quite bring herself to tell that lie, and ends on a sheepish smile instead. "Well.." She drawls in an unintentional imitation. Wilf laughs again, then pats her hands and walks off with a small wave. Donna can't help but laugh a bit when she hears Sylvia's muffled reaction to the hat.

The Doctor suddenly sticks his head out of the door. As soon as he sees her, he grabs her by the arm and pulls her inside. "There you are!" he exclaims as he manoeuvres her in, and hurriedly slams the door after them. "Thought I'd lost you for a minute there." He says, and Donna can tell he means it to be a joke, but it comes out sincere. He seems to realise how honest that sounds, by the look of acute embarrassment that flashes across his face. He stuffs his hands into his dimensionally transcendental pockets and shuffles awkwardly on his feet for about a second, then brushes it off and goes to poke something on the console. She wonders a bit about the poking, really she does.

The TARDIS hums a fond 'welcome back' to Donna, and seems almost as delighted to feel her mental response as her own BABY was to meet the Doctor. Donna files that away under 'things to be investigated' and moves over to stand beside the Doctor. He is pretending that he's busy with something, but Donna knows more about TARDIS' than he does, and all he is doing is fiddling with the font-size on one of the read-outs.

She hip-checks him away from the controls with a grin. "Don't be an idiot, Spaceman, you'll have to work a lot harder than that to get rid of me. Now stop fiddling with the fonts'" She says and starts up the engines with a few quick commands, completely ignoring his astonished expression. Several times she reaches for a button, or leaver, only to find them missing. Must be a modelling difference, she thinks to herself with a slight frown, but doesn't think much more about it until they are safely in the vortex.

Donna has a harder time than she thinks she should, trying to start up the necessary diagnostics. Everything is modified away from standard specs, and there are some things that just seem to be installed plain wrong. Donna's easy access to the Doctor's memories is gone, they've become distant and a bit faded in her mind, hardly any help at all. She turns to start interrogating the Doctor, only to find him leaning against the railing, arms crossed, and watching her with an absolutely daft grin on his face.

"What now?" she asks crossly. He runs a hand across his face and through his hair, but keeps smiling at her. "Nothing, Spacegirl." He answers with a decidedly cheeky tone to his voice. Donna groans loudly and rolls her eyes, but doesn't follow up. There is something about the TARDIS' hum that sounds just a bit off key, which is more than slightly disturbing to the engineer.

"Look, Sunshine, I'd love to banter with you some more later, but right now I need you to walk me through whatever senseless modifications you've done to the diagnostic protocols." She says with a very firm gesture to the controls. He walks up to her, but the idiotic smile stays plastered on his face. "My memories already fading?" he asks her lightly as he starts flipping switches. Donna hums an affirmative, and he nods as if he expected that would happen all along. She rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

The further she gets into her walk-through, the more concerned Donna gets. It is clear that the Doctor has meant well, and has taken all the care a physician can when working with a patient, but TARDIS' aren't just living creatures, they at least as much mechanical as they are biological. From a purely biological perspective, the Doctor has taken great care of his TARDIS, but it is very apparent that he is neither an engineer, nor a mechanic.

There are several components that really are installed wrong, and Donna discovers that many of the 'missing' buttons and leavers are casualties of the Doctor's maintenance. There are still great gaps in the installations that puzzle Donna until a gentle push from the TARDIS herself, brings a faded memory to the fore. She freezes stone still as it plays out.

"Doctor?" she snarls, when he looks at her questioningly. "Yeah, Donna?" She takes a deep and calming breath before answering. "Am I remembering this wrong, or did you really steal this TARDIS from the Museum of Engineering in the Citadel?" she asks, careful to keep her tone polite, lest her temper gets away from her. He can clearly recognise the tone in her voice, given how carefully he nods his head.

Donna deliberately does not punch his shoulder, but takes some very deep breaths through her nose to calm herself. The Doctor inches away from her, probably sensing her agitation through that innate semi-telepathic sense that all Time Lords share. "Did you bring her by a mechanic first, before flying off?" Donna asks in what might be a reasonable tone. His wide brown eyes lock on her face as he inches another step away, then shakes his head no.

Donna twists away from him and stalks towards the door, Gallifreyan curses tumbling from her lips as she hurries down the stairs and into the guts of the TARDIS, leaving him looking over the railing after her.

The sight that meets her eyes is a mixture of horrific and awe-inspiring. Everywhere there are strange work-arounds and fix-its that defy common sense. There are several places where the museum plaques are still affixed to the walls, though she doubts that any of them correctly correspond to what is displayed.

It is easy to think of the Doctor as a genius, but this is proof. Donna is absolutely certain that not a single other Time Lord, herself excluded, would have been able to get this girl working. There are so many missing components that she almost has a panic attack over having travelled in this death-trap. Donna starts making a mental tally of what is needed to keep this grand old girl from spontaneously combusting around them at any given time. This might look stable to the Doctor, but to Tink of the Temporal Engineering Core, this might as well be a break-canister filled with antimatter.

"Donna?" the unexpected, and very tentative, sound of his voice nearly has her out of her skin in fright. She turns to face him, and her anger melts in the face of his uncertain smile. She throws her head back and pulls at her hair with a groan of frustration. "Have you ever been to an earth museum?" Donna asks him after taking a deep breath. The Doctor nods, clearly not sure where she is going with this.

"Do you think, if we went to the aerospace museum in America, that we could just grab one of the planes from their exhibits and fly off?" It is very clear that he still isn't getting the picture. Donna gestures to a plaque.

"Do you think that all we do, when sending off a TARDIS to a retirement in the museum, is put in some plaques?" she asks, a healthy dollop of disbelief in her voice as she stalks towards him. He shrugs and backs up a step, but not far enough that she can't reach him. Donna slaps at his arm, for the third of fourth time that night.

"NO, Dumbo, it isn't!" she doesn't quite yell, and strides away, back up to the console room. He follows quickly, and a beginning annoyance leaks across their link. "Well, how was I supposed to know that?" he demands as they make their way back to the console. Donna shoots him a look. "Oh, I don't know, common sense?" she says, but there isn't any fire in it. She is too worried to get into an argument.

She runs the diagnostics again, and this time the strange readings are all understandable. "Rassilion's left nut." Donna mutters under her breath, trying to mentally quantify exactly what needs to be done. The Doctor must sense the enormity of having an engineer this distraught over his TARDIS, because he walks up behind her and lays a comforting hand on her shoulder, the earlier irritation gone.

"How bad is it?" he asks, worry seeping through the space between them. Donna braces herself. "If you had continued like this, eventually your Old Girl here," she pauses for a breath, pats the console, and leans into his hand. "She would have exploded. Simple as that, she would have blown up, and I have no way of knowing when." His arm snakes around her shoulders in a half-hug, his shock loud and clear between them. Christ on a crutch, Donna thinks to herself, they could have died at any time.

She takes a deep breath and disengages from their hug, then grabs the keys to BABY from her tool-belt. "We need to get BABY here, right now." She explains, and sends a mental call out to her tired TARDIS. At least the time in the vortex will do him some good, she thinks to herself. The Doctor looks like he is about to disagree, but doesn't have the time. The TARDIS shudders gently, and stills. There is a light mental squabble as BABY instructs Old Girl to completely disengage her temporal drives, but it quickly passes. The Doctor is looking around the room in confusion, clearly wondering where BABY is, as he hasn't materialised in the room.

"Did BABY just materialise around us?" he asks, a slightly horrified sound to his voice. Donna rolls her eyes, then starts working on the interface that will be essential for repairs to get underway. "Nope," she replies, popping the p in another unconscious imitation. "I designed BABY over an advanced VOY SR-93 schematic, Search and Rescue. Granted, he is heavily modified, but the basics are still there." Donna explains, and lets her fingers dance across the console. "He's interfaced directly into Old Girl," she pauses and gestures to a new door that the Doctor apparently hasn't noticed yet. "That door will lead directly into BABY's console room, makes TARDIS rescue so much easier that way." The Doctor looks at her like she's grown another head and hurries over to check. Sure enough, the modern greenish console room is easily visible through the door.

As soon as the door is open, the copper and moss colour-scheme starts spreading throughout the TARDIS they are standing in, filling out the holes and gaps that has so horrified Donna, and stabilising the failing systems. "Atta boy, BABY! Thanks, Old Girl!" Donna calls out as she sweeps aside some redundant security protocols that the Doctor must have installed. Thinking of, she turns to see his reaction and burst out laughing. He is wearing almost the exact same expression as the day they first met, his brown eyes flying around, trying to tract the changes.

"Whot?!" he exclaims, his head turning rapidly between the two console rooms. "This is impossible!"


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** I don't know what the heck happened here, okay?

* * *

Donna keeps them in the vortex for nearly two weeks. Even then, she isn't confident enough in the repairs to let the TARDIS' disengage. If they had access to a Coral Grove, or even just a plain old Gallifreyan shipyard, she might have been able to procure and install the missing components. As it is BABY is practically the only thing keeping Old Girl together. There is a palpable sense of relief in her gentle song, which convinces Donna that she has only just been holding on at the edge of her endurance. She doesn't tell the Doctor that exactly, he is already mentally beating himself senseless over not knowing how bad his TARDIS condition has become.

She straightens and pushes a wisp of hair away from her face, then grabs a rag off the floor and wipes off her hands. "There, that better, Darling?" she asks the ship kindly as she scrubs at the odd stains on her hands. What the hell had the Doctor been filling into Old Girl, she wonders briefly and smiles at the grateful/amused hum the TARDIS answers with.

"Oh, yes, much better, Donna." Donna barely manages to not bang her head against something as she jumps in fright. The Doctor steadies her, wearing the most obnoxious grin she has seen on him in ages. "Now, Now, Donna. No need to swoon over me." He says with a waggle of the caterpillar-like eyebrows, hands resting on her shoulders. She snorts and slaps lightly at his arm, shrugs him off, then starts towards the console room. "As if, bean-pole." Donna snips as she inches past him the the somewhat confined space.

"Aw, Donna, I'm hurt. You don't think I'm worthy of a swoon?" The smiles that steals across her face is entirely too fond, Donna fears. She is rather glad that he is behind her and can't see it. "I'm sure there's someone who thinks so." she throws over her shoulder. "Probably someone small and blond, eh?" she teases, sauntering around the central console, adding just a little extra sway to her hips to emphasise their curves. He watches her from the top of the stairs, a slightly shocked look on his face.

She is gratified to see his eyes follow the movement of her hips, and a slight blush work its way up his cheeks. He catches her eyes, then hurriedly grabs at his shirt, miming taking an arrow to his chest. Donna rolls her eyes theatrically.

Old Girl hums her amusement at their antics, but BABY seems confused. Donna gently pats a strut that is comprised of bits of both of the TARDIS'. She finds the contrast of Old Girl's rough coral, and BABY's smooth metallic surfaces quite nice to the touch, and has found herself petting them both at irregular intervals since they have interfaced. "So.." The Doctor starts. Donna sighed expansively, and this time it is the Doctor that rolls his eyes. "I was just going to ask what the prognosis is, Donna." He explains, and Donna can't help but laugh at his exasperated tone.

"Calm down, Sunshine," she pauses and walks over to the central pillar, a bit unsure of how to explain the situation. She looks at the console for a bit, then grabs hold of the smaller view-screen and twists it so the Doctor can see it from where he is standing. The graphs and prints she needs spring up obligingly, even as he Doctor comes closer.

"Right, this is a basic, bare-bones Model TT 40," she says and points, "and this is what Old Girl was missing." A bunch of systems are suddenly highlighted in neon green, and even after having been shoulder deep in repairs, Donna is a bit surprised at how many parts it is. "As you can see, thats a lot, more than BABY and I can replace without a lot of help that we just don't have access to." Donna releases the screen. It twists back to its original place with a slightly plaintive noise. "BABY is filling in all these gaps. As of right now, BABY and Old Girl can function as a reasonably modern all-round TARDIS, so long as we don't separate them." She throws on a cocky grin at her companion and leans against the console, hands resting behind her. "So unless you can magic up half a TARDIS worth of spare parts, or spare a few centuries to grown them, you're stuck with my BABY and me."

The Doctor stares at the graphics still on display on the screen for a moment, looking thoughtful, then turns one of his warmer smiles in her direction. "Well, there are worse fates, I suppose, than to be stuck with my best mate and her Baby." He says, drawling out 'Baby' to sound more like 'bay - bee' and grins mockingly at her. There is a distinctly questioning mental chirp from BABY. Donna absently sends out an affirmation of the Doctor's statement to BABY, feels him squirrel her reply away, and wonders for a moment if she hadn't done the poor thing a disservice leaving him out of touch like that. He's seemed a bit odd since their reunion.

"Right, that reminds me." Donna starts, and turns away from the Doctor to start flipping switches decisively. "We are going to go check on Handy now." She mutters, and tenses for his reaction. He walks up to stand behind her, and Donna thinks she senses him reach out for her with a tentative hand. She must be wrong, because he doesn't touch her shoulder when she expects him to. "What, why?" he sounds more than a bit confused, which actually pisses Donna off, just a tad. She throws a heated glare over her shoulder as she punches in the coordinates, and nearly smashes her head against his nose.

He is much closer than she expected, but that doesn't stop her. "Why do you think, moron?" she snaps at him. "I'm a Time Lady, you dolt, so he clearly isn't even slightly human. As soon as he gets put into a situation where he might regenerate, what do you think will happen?" she asks sarcastically. Donna doesn't actually know, but the thought has been nagging at her for days.

The Doctor frowns thoughtfully at her, pointedly not stepping back to give her some personal space. "You know, you really don't have to insult me all the time," he prevaricates, brown eyes looking off into the distance as he thinks about the possibilities.

Donna waits for a moment to see if he will answer her anytime soon, but he is off in lalaland, so she shrugs and initiates the sequences that will bring them safely through the void and into the alternate reality. It goes much smoother than she really expects it to, given the problems that were inherent in their last crossing, but then most modern TARDIS' do have that ability, and there isn't a Time Lord police agency to enforce any bans. Without any primitive technology, like that reality cannon thing shredding the walls of reality, they should be alright.

She is proven wrong. The TARDIS' tilts oddly, gives a little jiggle, and stops. She throws a somewhat embarrassed grimace at the Doctor, then walks over to the door and opens it for a quick look. The TARDIS' is parked on what looks like the ruins of a garden shed in front of a three story brownstone. Donna looks around, but nothing catches her eye as particularly interesting. The house looks quiet, not a light on or a sound out of place. Donna closes the door, then walks back, hip-checking the Doctor to get some more room at the controls, and reinitialises the TARDIS', one hip lodged against the Doctor to keep him out of the way. What an odd place to stop, she thinks to herself, and checks the TARDIS' console for the name of the small hamlet. Leadworth. What a dull sounding place, Donna thinks absently to herself.

The newly restored Time Lady actually considers waiting for the Doctor to get his act together when they land, but decides that she doesn't actually have that kind of patience. She powers up the scanners as soon as the TARDIS' landing sequence finishes. They've landed in the entrance hall of the Tyler Mansion, it looks like, and it looks like the early hours of the morning. She checks the chronometer and is a bit shocked to realise that the two weeks they spent repairing the TARDIS' has translated to fourteen months in this time stream.

Donna shoulders past the Doctor, who immediately turns and joins her at the door. They share a look. The Doctor raises a challenging eyebrow before they jointly throw open the doors.

The noise of their arrival has apparently woken the household. The sound of running feet approaches from several directions. Donna takes the opportunity to visually check the TARDIS' exterior. She is rather surprised to note that it still looks exactly the same. She can't help but curse quietly to herself. With BABY helping out, the chameleon circuit should have been perfectly functional. She files it away under 'things to be checked up on' and walks over to the Doctor to wait for some reaction from the residents of the house.

It isn't even three minutes past their arrival before doors start opening into the entrance hall. The Tylers, Jacky carrying a small toddler, are soon joined by a young man whose face Donna does not recognise. Rose Tyler is strangely absent.

He is tall, taller than the Doctor, has floppy ginger hair, no eyebrows, and seems to be wearing a bow-tie with his pyjamas. A quick look at the Doctor's face reveals a similar state of confusion, until suddenly something hits her nose hard. 'Time Lord!' her nose seems to scream. Seconds later, she has an armful of tall-and-gangly.

"Mum!" he breathes against her hair. Donna is too stunned to do anything but hug him back, completely flummoxed. She sends out a tentative mental thread to the Doctor full of confusion and shock. He answers in kind, then stops short as a third mind latches on to theirs, a parental bond snapping into place with the force of a thousand elastic bands. Donna barely keeps herself from flinching. "Handy?" she asks, just to be sure, and runs a hesitant hand through his hair.

He giggles, actually giggles, against her. "Well, I go by Terry most days, Terrence Noble." He backs up a bit, but doesn't release her. It's as if he is afraid that she'll disappear if he does. "When did you become an actual Time Lady, mum?" he asks her with a delighted grin, then claps a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, and again there is the quality of checking reality to his movements. The Doctor looks completely stunned, frozen with both eyebrows drawn up, brown eyes scanning the boy, and he really seems like a boy, as if searching for the answers to the universe. "Terry?" he says faintly.

'Terry' nods enthusiastically, blue eyes squinting against the force of his smile.

Donna remembers, after another stunned moment, that he has asked her a question. "Either two weeks ago, or I always was, it depends on your point of view." She replies vaguely, suddenly wondering if she somehow jinxed this trip. "When did you bleedin regenerate?" she demands, a shrill note entering her voice. He notices her distress and gently leads her to sit on the stairs. The Doctor follows swiftly, and takes position right next to the two. Terry explains that it has been months, something about a freak accident at Torchwood mortally wounding him.

The Tylers watch them for a moment, then Jackie groans loudly, bites out some sarcastic comments under her breath, then drags her family away.

Donna hardly notices, the horror of the situation sticking in her mind. What if he hadn't regenerated, she mentally gibbers to herself. They would have been too late to help him. They would have come here only to visit his grave. The newly minted parental bond actually makes her panic worse for a moment, until she figures out how to send a proper probe at his mind. He gamely allows her to see the memory of the accident, which calms her somewhat. The mind that has so latched onto hers is very similar to the Doctor's, but at the same time it is very clear that he is at least half hers as well. There are peaks of her pragmatic thought pattern woven into the more recondite swirls of thought that match up to the Doctor, plus a whole new level of hyperactivity that Donna is sure must come from the Doctor as well.

"How do you mean, Mum?" he asks her curiously, so she tries to explain as well as she can, given her state of shock. He seems utterly delighted by her story, and half-hugs her again. He is full of questions, this one, and by the time they are reasonably caught up, Donna is almost perfectly at ease with him. The Doctor has remained quiet throughout their conversation, his mind a distant swirl of thoughts gently brushing against both of theirs. Donna doesn't have the presence of mind to ask about Rose, not even as the trio saunter into the TARDIS' and set off home.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Short chapter this time.

Terry bounces around the TARDIS' like Tigger on crack, is Donna's thought, watching her son, and oh my god she's a mother now. It's a big thought, fills her head with all sorts of things, chiefly regret that she didn't get to see her child grow up. She shakes off the thought as unproductive, then goes back to watching Terry flutter about, hands going everywhere. The Doctor joins her, leaning against the jump-seats. She rolls her eyes and pulls him down to sit beside her. His attention is so focused on their son that he hardly seems to notice.

There is a puzzling uncertainty to Terry's actions. Donna sees him reach out to tweak some control, then hesitantly pull back his hands several times. It could be that the repairs are throwing him off, but he doesn't ask, and eventually reaches out to touch the central pillar itself. There is a swell of relief through their bond when Old Girl responds to him. BABY follows the elder TARDIS' lead, which makes Terry twitch in surprise. Donna wonders what her TARDIS has done to surprise him like that, but doesn't ask.

"How much do you remember?" the Doctor asks gently, an almost grim look to his face. Their son startles and turns to them with a slight look of guilt on his face that makes Donna think of someone caught with their hand in the sweets-jar. He looks away and runs a hand through his unruly locks, then stuffs his hands into his pockets in a painfully familiar gesture.

"Well," he starts, and glances at them uncertainly before looking back at his feet. "Everything started fading after about a week in that world," he trails off and scratches behind one ear, still refusing to meet their eyes. "It, um, it stabilised completely once I regenerated, but I've lost," he sighs, "a lot. The details of your lives are mostly gone, or bare-bones and kinda fuzzy." He finishes, and looks up at them with a frown.

The Doctor slumps slightly against her, and pulls out his sonic screwdriver. He runs a few scans, then nods absently. "I didn't even know much about mum, for goodness sake. Just that you are kind and ginger, and love me so much." Terry says, the last bit directed entirely at Donna. He looks so certain in his statement that it makes her hearts swell with emotion. She stands up and gathers her bean-pole of a son in a hug. The Doctor watches them from his seat, so Donna gestures sharply at him to join them. He does, and for a few moment the three of them just stand there, the Doctor still holding the sonic in one hand.

"Well, then, you have your whole life ahead of you now, Terry, no need to worry about not remembering ours." She says in a reasonable facsimile of a cheerful tone. She can't help feel a bit of helpless anger at the situation, unable to really wrap her head around what it must feel like to slowly loose the memories that make up your life. She throws an aggrieved look at the Doctor, not sure where else to put the blame. Unfortunately, he catches the look.

"What?! You can't blame me for this, surely?" he exclaims in indignant surprise. Donna doesn't, but right now she needs to let a bit of the anger out. "Well, who the flippin else am I going to blame? Meta-crisis' aren't supposed to do that, are they?!" she scoffs loudly, and regrets it almost instantly. He does have a rather large capacity to blame himself for everything, egomanical toff that he is. "And then you just left him there, with those, those people!" she nearly screams in his face, twisting away from Terry to get right in the Doctor's face. It's unfair, and she knows it even as the words spew from her mouth. She must hit a sore spot, because the skin around his eyes tightens with fury.

"Well, what about you?!" he yells, and it is probably the loudest she has ever heard him. "If you hadn't been hiding under a chameleon arch, like a coward, I might have thought to check" and he cuts off, then runs a horrified hand across his face. Donna stands there, stunned, his words raining down on the hidden guilt she feels. He turns away from her and stalks a few angry paces, then twirls back, clearly readying another volley. Donna doesn't brace herself, just stands there struck mute.

He stops short, brown eyes locking with hers. Donna is horrified and humiliated to realise that her vision has gone cloudy with tears. She has to fight against the instinct to shrug it off, when Terry places a careful hand on her arm from behind. She can feel his confusion and fear over the parental bond, and suddenly she quite hates herself. God, she is always mucking things up, she thinks as she wipes her eyes with her sleeve. When she looks up the Doctor's face is sadder than she's ever seen it over something like this, and he steps forward with an outstretched hand, but she doesn't let him get close. "Donna, no, wait, I didn't mean.." Is all she hears as she stalks from the room, taking care to stay out of his reach, and slamming the door behind her.

It is several hours later before she feels calm and collected enough to exit her rooms. Well, calm is perhaps not the right word; her injured pride and the guilt over starting the argument in the first place have kept her tense and ready to snap at anything since she stalked out. Donna knows that she should find the Doctor and apologise, or at the very least apologise to Terry. He's been past her rooms, but had left again when she refused to open the door, still too upset to face her son. Old Girl has been giving her the silent treatment, while BABY just seems confused over the tense atmosphere.

Donna enters the kitchen and goes straight for the kettle. She needs tea if she is going to resolve this stupid situation she's put herself in. The kettle started, she readies a mug for when then water boils, then turns to lean against the counter to wait. It takes a moment for her to notice that she isn't alone. The Doctor is sitting at the small table in the corner, a cooling cup in front of him, head resting on his hands. He looks a mess, hair more askew than ever, and a drawn look to his face. He looks so tired and sad that Donna finds her wounded pride seeping from her without her permission. She stands frozen against the counter for a moment before she realises that he hasn't noticed her. That says something about how upset he is, and kicks her guilt into high gear. Donna hates to see her friend this upset, and there is something gut-wrenching about being the one who made him thus.

The whistling of the kettle startles them both. Donna meets his eyes, and tries to convey an apology with just her gaze. The silence between them is awkward and horrible. She turns around and prepares her tea, then carries it over and sits next to him without a word. They sit quietly for a while, slowly relaxing into the others presence until Donna finds herself leaning heavily into his shoulder.

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. He rests his head on her hair for a moment before sighing. "You know I didn't mean," he starts, and Donna shushes him, "Yeah, I didn't mean it either, Spaceman." She replies. They can't see each-other's faces like this, which is probably a good thing, she thinks. It makes it easier, in any case. She feels him smile slightly against her hair, probably more due to their link than their proximity. "I'm sorry, though, for saying it at all." She says, and hates the way her voice is small and shaky. "I was just so angry, and helpless," she tries to explain.

The Doctor nods against her, rubbing his cheek against her hair. "I know, Donna, we nearly lost him. It was too similar to when we lost Jenny," He says, as if it is as simple as that. Donna feels a slight swell of irritation, but quells it. He cuts right to the core of the matter, and she might feel a bit resentful of that ability of his. She is a bit horrified to hear herself sniffle slightly as she nods. "He showed you, then?" she asks, just to be sure. Terry's regeneration had been caused by an accident, yes, but it hadn't been his. He had jumped in front of that Tyler girl when an energy weapon had misfired. The Doctor trills an affirmative into her hair, and it isn't until that moment Donna realises that they've switched to Gallifreyan at some point. It is comforting, in its own way. "We're okay though, aren't we?" he asks her after they've sat there a while. Donna smiles warmly, though doesn't move. "Yeah, of course we are, Doctor." She says and pats at the hand that is resting on her shoulder. "'Course we are."


	7. Chapter 7

"This is not Chiswick." Donna states flatly. She is standing in the doorway, looking out on a landscape that is not unlike rural England, if rural England was done in dull dark grey and bright amaranth pink. The sky is a brilliant neon green, and though she sees no sun, there are four moons of various sizes cluttering up the view of the exosphere.

"What? Of course it is..." The Doctor says absently as he flicks some switches on the sensors. She is really going to have to force him to read the manual at some point, because he clearly has no idea what the heck he's doing, she thinks uncharitably. "No, Doctor, this is most definitely not Chiswick." She says again, and crosses her arms against the oddly cool draft that is flowing in through the door. The sounds of civilisation drift in on the wind.

Terry looks up from the data-pad he's been reading on the jump-seat, then tilts his head in confusion as he catches sight of what is outside the doors. He unfolds his long legs and ambles over to stand beside Donna. He distractedly grabs onto her arm as he comes to a stop, looking around in fascination. He's been rather tactile since she and the Doctor had their little blow up.

There is a building just visible over a hill, maybe half a mile from where they've landed. Donna sends a questioning thought at the TARDIS' but neither of them answer her with anything useful. She wants to be surprised at their unscheduled detour, but she has been travelling with the Doctor long enough that it is almost routine. Still, Donna is rather surprised to realise that Old Girl has to have convinced BABY to go along with this.

"Do you know where we are, mum?" Terry asks quietly from her side. Donna looks at him fondly and tries send reassurance through their bond. "I'm sorry, no, Sweetheart. This doesn't look like anyplace I've ever been." This seems to catch the Doctor's attention. "What do you mean you haven't.." He trails off, finally looking up from what he was fiddling with. "Oh." He says in such a flat tone that Donna can't help by chuckle. "Seems your Old Girl has corrupted my BABY. Bad influence, you lot." She teases, feeling the familiar rush of adventure building in her gut. He looks at her with a well acquainted grin slowly growing on his face, a grin that seems to spread onto Terry's face as well. "It seems pretty cold, you two might need coats." The Doctor comments mildly.

The three Time Lords share an excited grin. "Race you to the wardrobe!" Donna shouts as she hurries past her boys. Terry laughs delightedly and follows, his long legs giving her tough competition.

It really is rather nippy outside. It isn't bad, not to a trio of Time Lords, but a human would have found it freezing. Donna is grateful for her long-coat anyway, because part of her still remembers being human and has trouble letting go of those instincts, but also because it covers her clothes in such a way that she isn't risking offending any locals. Well, she doesn't think so, anyway. You never can tell. It is the same coat that she wore when she helped the Doctor free the Ood, which might just be another reason that it is her favourite.

The three of them are probably quite a sight, she muses, walking hand in hand as if Terry was much smaller than he is. She can almost imagine him skipping along between them as a child. She sends the thought to him, and is somewhat gratified at the wry grin he pays her with. "I'd try it, mum, but I think I might just tip you short-fry over." He says, voice a bit loud in the semi-quiet. The Doctor, who had been visually scanning their surroundings, turns and gives them a curious look that has both of them breaking into giggles. The Doctor doesn't seem bothered by being left out of the joke, and gives them a slightly baffled but warm smile. "Whot?" he asks, but Donna just shakes her head.

They make it over the hill without any trouble, and find that the building that they had seen from the TARDIS' is a large three story that reminds Donna oddly of that building in Leadworth that they had landed outside of. She dismisses the thought, her eyes roaming the area.

The building is on the outer edge of a large square, lines with what looks like cobbles, and surrounded by smaller houses at the opposite end. There is a gap between them, which rather makes Donna think that the larger building is some form of civil centre. The buildings are all built in blue-grey stone, with the same dull grey wood of the few trees they've seen used for doors and windows. It's sort of pretty, she thinks, in a monotone way.

The source of the noise is quickly apparent. A bunch of market stalls are set up in the middle of the square, as well as a small stage. The area is bustling with humanoid figures, all of them clad in various shades of orange and green, ranging from burnt umber to dark forest. They are all wearing tall head-dresses, though there seems to be as much variation in type as there are shades in the fabric, but all of them completely obscure whether or not the figures have hair. They are going to stick out like sore thumbs, Donna thinks with a slightly worried smile.

A few of the figures look up when the Trio makes it to the square, but most ignore them completely. It's a bit off, but Donna isn't sure why. They might, after all, see plenty of tourists normally. "Huh, this is odd," the Doctor says, echoing her thoughts as he looks about with that indelible curiosity of his. "What is?" she asks, and tugs Terry a bit closer. He is just as curious as his father, but apparently lacks even the smidgen of common sense that the Doctor does posses, as he is already walking towards a stall, paying his parents no mind.

"Hmm?" the Doctor asks, turning his attention back to Donna. She gives him a rather unimpressed look and scoffs. "You said something is odd. What is?" she repeats. He wobbles slightly on his heels, his hands going into his pockets. "Well..." he starts, and Donna knows this is going to be another in their long line of dangerous adventures. She gestures impatiently for him to continue.

"Well, this looks like Aeckura at some point right after their industrial revolution," he says and points towards the humanoids, "and these look like Aeckurans, except," he pauses, looking around them some more. "Except?" she asks, and stuffs her own hands into her pockets, then realises that Terry has freed himself from her grip. It takes her all of two seconds to spot him, talking animately to a local woman in a costume that is just slightly more elaborate than the rest. Terry is at least a foot taller than the woman. She forces down the worry the sight instills. He might be young, but he isn't a child, she reminds herself sternly.

"Well, except that this isn't Aeckura." He says and points to the larges of the 'moons' in the sky. "That, is Aeckura." He says and shuffles over to stand a bit closer to Donna, his gaze flickering about, already trying to figure out what is going on. Donna looks up at the 'moon' then back at the Doctor. "So we're on a moon." She says a bit puzzled, but not really that concerned yet. "Maybe this is a colony, or a museum, y'know one of those reenactment places." She suggests with a shrug. The Doctor makes a sound that could conceivably be agreement, if you ignore the doubtful tone.

The two of them walk about the market place for a while, and Donna looses herself in fascination over the trinkets and other curious things that are for sale. The Doctor sticks close, somewhat unusually, but she doesn't mind. It's nice, and in a strange sort of way, domestic. "You haven't been here before?" he asks suddenly, "I mean to Aeckura?" Donna turns away from the little mechanical toys she's been investigating, and raises a questioning eyebrow in his direction. "No, can't say that I have." She answers mildly, but doesn't elaborate. He huffs at her in annoyance. "Well, why not? How long have you been travelling with BABY?" he asks. The tone is reasonably polite, but Donna can sort of sense the bubbling interest that he is trying to hide. Donna rolls her eyes to the heavens.

"I wasn't really an adventurer, not like you, Doctor. I was an emergency engineer, Search and Rescue, basically. We usually didn't go anywhere that didn't have a TARDIS is distress." She explains with exaggerated patience. "Sometimes we'd get called to a station to lend a hand, but we never really made much landfall, BABY and I, not before it all went pear-shaped." She turns her attention back to the doodads, finished with the subject.

The Doctor doesn't get the message. "When did you meet Wilf?" he asks eagerly. Donna huffs and gives up on mentally deconstructing the thingamabobs on the table. She turns around and grabs his arm, then drags him to a bench on the outskirts of the square. She plops down, incidentally pulling him with her, and makes herself comfortable. He's looking at her with wide surprised eyes when she turns her attention to him with a glare.

"You want that story, fine." She bites out, "I met Wilf when he was seventeen, and just inducted into the paras. He'd lied about his age, obviously." She explains at his astonished look. "BABY and I were the only surviving members of our squad, and quite frankly I only survived because BABY refused to let me die." Donna pauses, trying to collect her thoughts. The Doctor grabs her other hand in his, offering her emotional support that she isn't sure she wants. Some wounds are private, she thinks, and feels bad about it. She knows all of his, even if her memories of them are dull and indistinct.

Before she can continue, their attention is caught by a commotion on the other side of the square. Donna has a really bad feeling about it the moment she realises that she can't find Terry's tall form in the crowds. Given that the Aekurans are all shorter than five feet, this is really worrying. "Oh, no." The Doctor mutters, thinking along the same lines as her, she's sure.

They share a look. "You don't think," he starts. She gives him a look of complete disbelief, both eyebrows drawn up into her fringe. "What am I saying, of course it's Terry." He mutters. They both stand up, and nearly simultaneously pull out their sonics. "Oh, of course it is." She agrees. Donna fiddles with her sonic for a moment, then glances over at his curiously. "Yours can do a life-signs scan, can't it?" she asks. He nods as he sets the scanner, sticking some component in his mouth while he adjusts the screwdriver. "Specific life-signs?" she asks. The Doctor gives her a mildly exasperated look and nods. "Well, excuse me, Spaceman, but mine only does general." Donna snips defensively.

The crowd has thickened significantly since they sat down, and now they are faced with a wall of Aeckurans when they try to localise the cause of the disturbance. Donna catches the Doctor's eye, and gestures for him to follow her, then takes off at a jog. They make their way around the perimeter of the crowd. A flash of ginger hair attracts her eye. She is dismayed, but not surprised, not in the least, at the sight that meets them. There, kneeling in shackles, between a couple of burly Aeckurans,in front of the small stage is Terry.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oi!" Donna roars, then stalks through the suddenly silent crowd, shouldering past those not quick enough to move out of the way. "Oi, what the flippin hell do you think you are doing to my son?!" Terry looks up at the sound of her voice and meets her eyes with what can only be embarrassment. "Hey, Mum." He mutters and looks down, a pink flush crawling up his cheeks. Donna chooses to ignore that, and glares harshly at the two thugs that have her son all trussed up. "Let him up, now! and get those chains the hell away from him." She bellows at the quite stunned looking guards, gesturing empathetically at them in a fury. It clearly discombobulates them enough that the one on the right is reaching for Terry's chains without a thought.

"You are the mother of this contemptuous boy?" The woman that Terry had been chattering away at is standing just off to the side. Her voice, which is deep and gravely as any thirty-year smokers, is dripping disgust. "Who are you calling contemptible, lady?" Donna nearly growls, and goes to take a step. The Doctor grabs her arm from behind, keeping her still. Part of her wants to snap at him over it, but the faint whisper of '..trust me..' Across their small link keeps her quiet.

"What has our son done to so offend you, my lady?" the Doctor asks, sidestepping around Donna. He ends up standing partially in front of her, a rather thin and flimsy shield, in Donna's opinion. The woman steps forward and examines the two of them as if they were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe, her otherwise pretty features curled in disgust. "Your son," she starts, and throws a look of disgust at Terry that is rather more extreme than Donna expects, and rather makes Donna want to strangle her "dared to lay hands on the Most Holy Idol." The woman says, and gestures to what Donna had thought was some small piece of abstract sculpture. It is small and rounded, just barely the size of a beach ball, and resting on the small mound on the edge of the square, looking completely inert. Donna looks at it dubiously, then flicks out her sonic screwdriver, and bleepes it. Her eyebrows draw up in surprise at the readings, before the Doctor suddenly whips out a hand and pulls hers, sonic and all, into his deep pockets.

"Not now, Donna," he hisses out of the corner of his mouth, his eyes still fixed on the woman. He seems unusually tense, thinks Donna. Shouldn't he be blathering away at the natives, figuring things out like he usually does, she wonders, then realises that he is still clutching her hand in his pocket, a deep well of worry thrumming just under the surface of his skin. She reorients on the situation, a bit uncertainly.

"Alright, so Terry has touched this 'Most Holy Idol'," The Doctor agrees, "What does he need to do to make up for it, your ladyship?" he continues in what Donna is sure is supposed to be a reasonable tone. She rather hopes the people of Aeckura aren't as good at reading Time Lord body language, because otherwise they are going to be making yet another run for it soon. Terry is looking between them with a look that is much too curious for Donna's peace of mind. Another thug has taken position at his back, this one wielding what looks suspiciously like a battle axe. The light glints off the bare blade, which causes at least one of her hearts to stutter in her chest.

The woman, some kind of priestess, Donna assumes, smirks at them maliciously and nods at someone behind them. Donna nearly jumps out of her skin when a pair of unexpectedly strong hands clasp her arms to her sides, pulling her hand from the Doctor's pocket. She lets go of the sonic without a thought. A quick glance shows her that the Doctor has also been grabbed by the arms. Donna struggles a bit, but the Aeckurans are really unnaturally strong for such a small-statured people.

"Your son will be cleansed," the woman says loudly, and the crowd cheers, "at the suns fields. You, being found guilty by association, will be cleansed at the morrow." She finishes with a fluttery arm-movement for the cheering crowds benefit. Under Donna's horrified eyes, Terry is frog-marched to the tall building, his chains clinking loudly enough to be audible over the crowds noise.

A beefy hand pushes her so she almost stumbles, the hands on her arms pulling her along, and soon she and the Doctor are thrown into a rather dismal cell in the large blue building. Their guards barely stick around to lock the door, then are off down the hallway. Donna cocks her eyebrows at the Doctor. "Well, isn't this familiar." She says with some sarcasm, which he responds to with a frustrated glare.

"This isn't really a time for humour, Donna. We need to get out of here before they 'cleanse' our son." He snarls, and paces the tiny room in a few quick strides, running both hands through his hair in agitation. Donna tries the door on the off chance that the lock is malfunctioning, but no, the solid wood door doesn't budge. She goes for her sonic, only to remember that she's left it in the Doctor's pocket, so she turns to look at him, still pacing the small room, eyes roaming the bare windowless walls. "Right then, can I have the sonic?" she asks with a small sigh. He throws her an astonished look. "It doesn't work on wood." He reminds her sharply.

"Actually, I meant MY sonic, you prawn. It's in your pocket." She replies and crosses her arms, a bit sick of this attitude of his. He looks at her uncomprehendingly, then sticks a hand down and fumbles in the appropriate pocket. He finds it reasonably swiftly, and hands it to her with an uncertain look on his face. "Yours does wood?" he asks as her hand brushes his.

"Nooo, it doesn't." She tells him with a sweet smile, clasping the hand that is holding her sonic with both of hers for a moment. "Metal locks, on the other hand," she says with a slightly condescending smirk as she gestures to the door and liberates her sonic, "it does those." He throws a startled, wide-eyed look at the door, then shines one of his thousand watt smiles in her direction. "Donna Noble, you are brilliant!" He exclaims, and almost bounces on his feet as she sonics the primitive lock and leads him from the cell.

The two of them sneak carefully through the house. The holding-cells aren't in the cellar, if the building even has one, but rather at the back of the house. The Doctor leads the way, having rightfully claimed most experience in sneaking around. There is no back door, no that would have been too easy, Donna thinks, so they find themselves peaking at the front door from just around a corner. Unfortunately the door is guarded by a couple of those little powerhouses.

They are going to need some kind of distraction, thinks Donna, and shares a wordless conversation with her companion, mostly conducted through a bunch of gestures and facial expressions that leave them right back at where they started. They stare balefully at each other for a moment, then the Doctor grabs something from his pocket and walks forward with purpose. Donna frantically grabs at him, but too late. She sighs in exasperation and hurries after him.

"Right, gents, as you can clearly see on this paper of pardons right here in my hand, we've been pardoned, completely pardoned, no need to stop us as we hurry out of here." The Doctor says in a machine-gun patter, moving right past the guards while they are still trying to read the psychic paper he is waving at them. Donna gives him a glare, then saunters after him with a confidence she doesn't quite feel.

"So, you looked surprised, earlier." The Doctor enquires suddenly as they hurry to a dark corner of the still crowded square, sending somewhat furtive looks at the apparently dull-wit guards. They are standing exactly where they left them, and seem to have forgotten that anything unusual had happened. She cringes at his idea that this is an appropriate time to have any kind of conversation, but answers nonetheless. "Earlier? Be a bit more specific, for gods sake." She hisses, eyes and ears on stalks. There is a distant cheering coming from the opposite side of the square to where they had come from, well away from the TARDIS'.

The atmosphere seems to be distorting her ability to judge distances via sound. There was an odd sort of echo effect that doesn't make much sense to her, but then a lot of this planet doesn't make that much sense. "Earlier, you know, when you scanned the, the, the rock-Idol." He clarifies with his usual eloquence, gesturing in a mildly rounded way as if that illuminates his meaning anymore than his words do. She doesn't roll her eyes, but only because she feels like she's been doing that too much lately.

"The Most Holy Idol, you mean?" she scoffs. He smiles brightly, a bit of his usual humour leaking into his countenance, and nods, "yeah, that."

Once they are reasonably safe in the shadows, Donna pulls up the scan-results on her sonic screwdriver. The mental interface responds promptly, downloading the data into her head. She sends a copy to the Doctor's sonic as an afterthought. "Look, here. This doesn't make much sense to me, 'cept that it's transmitting something psionic moon-wide." She mutters, eyes going to the innocent-looking stone monument.

"Huuu, that's not good," he mumbles as he goes over the readings. There is a sensation not unlike that of a swarm of angry buzzing bees in her stomach at that response. "Whot isn't?" she snaps, keeping an eye out while he does something to his screwdriver. "Ah, well, you see," he hems and haws, "The thing about the Aeckurans is, well they are basically pacifist in nature, but also somewhat zealous." He explains, as much as he ever does. "Pacifistic?" she asks incredulously. "Why do they have guards and prison cells then?" she asks with a twitch of her head towards their recently vacated prison. He mugs a strange expression. "Well," he starts, "that isn't an Aeckuran artifact. It's an Ilk artifact." Donna blinks in surprise, her mind stuttering slightly. "Ilk? Ilk, as in that blobby thing with the eyes that was running the Edifice?" she asks, caught completely off-guard at the reminder of an old adventure.

He nods, his mouth contorted in a mystified grimace. "The one I put in its place with a good scolding?" she asks, just to be sure. He can't seem to help the silly grin that spreads across his face. "Yes, you certainly did, Donna Noble. Would have been lost without you." He says, as if that is the first or only time she's saved his scrawny little behind. "And don't you forget it," she says quietly, turning her eyes back to the crowd. "So, what is an Ilk doing here?" Donna wonders, "making the Aeckurans worship a, a psionic transmitter to feed off of their...worship?" she continues, worry for Terry increasing as the crowd starts chanting something wordless. The Doctor shrugs, unable to answer her.

Donna throws her hood up to cover her hair, then grabs a hold of the Doctor. They share a nervous look, then start stealthily edging their way around the square. They make their way through the small, nearly nonexistent actually, alleys between buildings, skirting around groups of unconcerned figures. Donna knows that they've been spotted several times, but not one Aekuran reacts to them. There are several from the crowd that should have recognised them from their arrest. It unsettles Donna to be so casually disregarded. She can't help but think that there is more to this than just a hungry Ilk.


	9. Chapter 9

The sound of chanting becomes almost deafening by the time they make it to a proper vantage point. The rolling hills, it turns out, are hiding a rather deep crevice in the landscape. Donna is somewhat disheartened to see what looks like a religious site at the heart of the valley, surrounded by a huge crowd. The smallish town shouldn't hold that many people, not unless there is some kind of underground complex, there just isn't enough room. She can't see Terry in the crowd, not from their vantage point in a small grove of grey-pink trees at the crest of a hill, so she starts looking for any unusual looking groups. The perimeter of the crowd is mere meters away from their hiding spot. The Doctor leans around her slightly, his hands resting on her arms, his body pressing against her back. She wants to snap 'hands!' at him, but that would just give away their position, and really she has more important things on her mind at the moment than some slightly inappropriate touching.

'...you see anything...' comes the faint mental question, barely audible but tinged with a sense of familiar worry. She shakes her head, then gestures at him with her sonic, miming running a scan. He cocks a baffled eyebrow, so she pokes him in the chest with one finger, then flicks her head in the general direction of the religious looking site, and gestures with her sonic again. His wide brown eyes do not spark with comprehension. She huffs in annoyance, then grabs his hand, hoping that the increased skin contact will strengthen their link enough that she can get her point across. 'Specific Life-Sign scan, remember?!' She mentally hollers, a bit too loudly it seems. The Doctor pulls his hand away like he's been burned and gives her a pained grimace. Well, telepathy had never been her favourite subject at the academy,she thinks, mouthing 'oh you big baby,' at him when he brings a hand to his temple. He glares reprovingly at her, but obligingly brings out his sonic screwdriver, then begins to fiddle with it.

It takes him less than five minutes to do what ever it is he is doing, then turn the screwdriver on the crowd. Donna tenses at the low hum of the scan, but not a Aeckuran reacts. That is actually really starting to freak her out. The more Donna looks at the natives, the more she realises that most of them have no expression on their faces at all. It is like looking at a large congregation of automatons milling about, their mouths thoughtlessly crooning the wordless sound that Donna is starting to doubt is actually a chant. She flips her sonic over to waveform diagnostics mode and starts taking readings, even as she carefully follows the Doctor. He is leading them around the rim of the valley, closer to the focus of Aeckuran attention. The indistinct buildings dissolve into what looks surprisingly like a roman amphitheatre built in the dull grey wood. It matches the dull grey grass so well that it nearly blends in, and if its hadn't been for the crows and the colourful banners hadn't been hung, Donna rather doubts she would have noticed it. The building is absolutely swamped, but the closer they get, the more disturbed the two Time Lords become. The natives start looking more and more bedraggled the closer they get to the amphitheatre. Each person they pass looks more vacant than the last.

The sound is vibrating into her bones by the time they get to the building. The level of anxiety that is drumming through the link is not helping Donna's nerves any at all. A sudden change in the wind brings a cloyingly familiar scent to her nose. Tapioca/Candy floss, so strong and overpowering that Donna gags. She turns and spits bile into a bush that is growing against the building. The Doctor places a bracing hand on her shoulder, but keeps his attention to the Aeckurans. This close to the building the people are utterly emaciated, their colourful frocks and headgear in rags and tatters around them. They are all facing the building, once brilliant eyes dull and lifeless, mouths open and expelling that same reverberating sound. There is something heartbreaking about this. Donna wants to cry on their behalf, horrified by the empty gazes.

Inside the building it is the same. Corridor after corridor filled with the forms. The Doctor gestures towards the back of the building, his sonic buzzing wildly in hand. Donna and the Doctor have to squeeze through doorways and inch through the filled spaces, both of them careful not to harm the mindless masses. Some of them are already dead, tilted over next to an uncaring neighbour, mummified in the cool stale air. Donna winces as she steps on something. There is a loud 'snap' that is drowned out by the drone but manages to reach her ears anyway. She looks down. A shattered femur rests feebly under foot. She has to pause and take a deep breath to steel herself. A cool hand comes to rest on her own, and she looks up to meet the Doctor's concerned eyes. She gives him a small smile in thanks for his wordless reassurance. The drone is giving her a terrible bone-deep headache, and she feels the ghost of an answering one in the Doctor.

The inside of the building was probably beautiful once, she thinks, her eyes taking in the construction with some professional appreciation. Primitive, but well built, and very reminiscent of Roman architecture. It's internal structure is mostly wood, but the floor is made of the same bluish stone as the buildings in the square, just polished to a smooth shine. There are banners in here as well, most of them grey with dust and age. Some of them have elaborate designs on them, probably denoting some history or perhaps the patron that had donated them, but most are solid colours under the grime. There are so many of them that Donna thinks they must have some kind of dampening effect on the noise, though unnoticeable at this decibel level.

The closer they get to the back of the building, walking through a vaulted, gently curving corridor, the fewer live Aeckurans there are. It doesn't get any quieter, though part of Donna thinks it should. There are skeletal forms of adults and children alike in the dust, thinning out slightly, but still blocking their way. Donna notes with some surprise that the high corridor that they've been following has a gentle slope down-wards. She glances at a window, only to realise that there are none on their level. One floor up, light flows through some high windows. The building appears to have been dug out of the valley wall.

The two Time Lords finally reach an open door and share a grim look before stepping through. They find themselves in the gallery area of what was once a theatre. There are rows and rows of seats in a large semi-circle facing a stage. In each seat, a dead and crumbling mummy sits, a gruesome testimony to whatever has happened here. The clothing these mummies are wearing is of a different style than the drab, yet colourful style of the natives they've met wear. It is more elaborate, more creative. The roof has partially caved in at one corner, letting the planet and moon-light in, green sky clearly visible. The architecture looks ancient and decrepit, but the part of her that was forever changed when she looked into the untempered schism is already drawing up schematics on how to repair and improve the structure. Donna takes another deep breath, trying to remand that part of herself to the deep corners of her mind, and coughs wildly as dust and air borne debris try to congest her lungs. Her respiratory bypass kicks in, much to her relief.

The stage area seems to have sunk away. There is a deep pit there, deep enough that they need to walk all the way to edge to see the bottom. A shaft of light pierces the darkness like a spotlight. The woman from earlier is pacing the floor, occasionally throwing contemptuous glances at the remains of her fellow Aeckurans as she walks past them. The contrast between the bright area and the shadows is enough that Donna doesn't seen Terry at first. Her eyes scan the area, looking for signs of movement, of anything that might betray her son's presence. The Doctor grabs her arm and points into a shadow at the far right of the pit, his sonic pulsing.

The woman is clearly talking, the movements of her mouth clearly visible, an occasional hand gesture thrown in for good measure, but the droning is still too loud for Donna to make out any words at all. Donna turns her attention to finding a way down there, rather than to what the crazy person is saying. Her sonic whirs in her hand as she does a quick scan. There have been more catastrophic failures of architecture that block their access. Donna grabs the Doctor's hand in hers again, and pulls him along, making sure to keep out of sight of the woman. A rock-fall has created a possible access route, a pile of debris stacked high enough that a few jumps is all that stands in their way. They slide down the last small drop into a shadow not far from the pacing woman. This is when Donna spots Terry, tried up in what looks disconcertingly like a straight jacket. He is being made to sit in a chair by two thugs. Terry looks away from the pacing woman for just a moment, and catches her eye. Donna smiles reassuringly, and places a finger over her lip. He smiles crookedly in response, then turns his attention back to the woman.

Whatever the purpose of the sound, it is nearly completely dampened at the bottom of the pit by some strange coincidence of acoustics. The sound of the woman pacing echo slightly in the enclosed space, and her ranting starts to come through loud and clear. It takes a moment for Donna to realise that the Doctor isn't directly by her side. He is edging over to a deeper shadow. For a moment all Donna can see is a wall of darkness under the seating area, but then her eyes adjust. There is another pit there, and clearly her companion has decided to check out what is in it. Donna turns her eyes back to her son's captor, and realises that she is ranting at something in the pit.

Donna gives up any pretence of not following the Doctor and hurries after him. The smell of Tapioca and candy floss is stronger here, she notes absently, then stops short at the Doctor's side.

There is an Ilk in the pit.

It isn't anything like the setup that they had encountered on the Edifice. This Ilk is clearly not here by its own free will. It is held down by what appears to be a thick netting, forcing the blobby mass of its body to the ground. There are spikes woven into the netting, long dangerous looking things that are jabbing the creature mercilessly, creating large rents and wounds in its gelatinous form that ooze bright pink blood, somewhat sluggishly. There is a set of long wires attached to the spikes. Donna follows their flow back towards the stage area. They are attached to a generator, in a style that reminds her of those little mechanical toys that she had been looking at in the market place. More of the Aeckuran thugs are working the generator. Occasionally the Ilk twitches violently, but it is completely unable to get free. Donna and the Doctor exchange a look of determination. Whatever the hell is going on here, they have to stop it.

Then, the Doctor gets that stupidly determined look on his face, again. Donna doesn't have even half a moment to react before he walks straight into the light and catches the woman's attention. "Now, what the hell do you think you are doing here?" he booms out, apparently shocking the woman senseless for a moment.

Donna feels herself shake with suppressed fury at his thoughtlessness, but takes the opportunity to run over to where the two thugs are holding Terry. She flips her sonic to it's maximum setting, which is not fatal, but rather incapacitating if she does have to say so herself. The two thugs fall like puppets with their strings cut, purple blood spurting from their noses as the powerful sonic, and incredibly localised pulse, knocks them out. She hurries to undue the bindings of Terry's restraint, and hugs him to within an inch of his life as soon as she can. A quick pat down to asses him for injuries later, and the two of them turn their attention to the verbal battle that the Doctor is fighting.


	10. Chapter 10

Donna watches in disbelief as the Doctor continues to talk to the crazy woman, voices raised to try to drown each other out. The woman has quickly gotten over the shock of their arrival and is screaming obscenities at the Doctor, her face contorted and ugly in her frenzy. Donna rather wants to join in, angry beyond belief that he has put himself in danger like this. She knows that anger is mostly powered by fear, and she is very aware of the reason for her fear. The last time they had faced an Ilk it had almost killed him, and not twenty meters from where he is standing another Ilk lays.

Terry grabs her shoulders to stop her from just walking up and slapping the Doctor silly, and gestures to the side. The thugs are still knocked out flat, but that isn't what he is referring to. There is some sort of console attached to the primitive generator. Donna glares angrily at the Doctor, but he doesn't acknowledge her, so she turns and hurries to the console, Terry in tow. She may have a certain dislike for the Ilk as a whole, but this particular Ilk hasn't done anything to her, and she can't stand to see any creature in pain.

She strides over and pokes at the console briefly. It doesn't match the generator at all, much more organic and oddly crystalline than the bulky primitive brass thing it is attached to. She looks inquisitively at Terry, who shrugs at her, just as ignorant about the origins of this set up as she is. Her sonic has the thing down and out in a shower of sparks, no real effort needed, and suddenly the droning sound stops. The four of them freeze at the deafening quiet, the last syllables of the Doctor's argument echoing strangely in the hollow space. For a while there is total silence, until Donna's ears start picking up a wheezy faint sound. She turns to look for the source. It is the Ilk, fighting for breath, even as it lays there, no longer twitching from the electrical shocks.

"Look! Look what you have done to this poor creature!" The Doctor shouts, gesturing expansively, his face rigid in fury, eyes locked with the womans. The loss of the psionic field seems to have taken a great deal of anger out of her argument. The woman is looking at the Doctor like she has never seen him before, cold eyes scanning his face dispassionately and clearly find him lacking. "Poor creature?" she asks sardonically, cocking an eyebrow and throwing a cruel mocking grin at the captured Ilk. "That poor creature," she coos, "that came here to feed on the pathetic inhabitants of this backwater." She says with a sneer. "That poor creature." She says again, no pity in her face at all, only thwarted rage.

"It landed here, years and years ago, in my father's fields. Dug itself down, too wounded by a botched landing." She scoffs angrily, "It offered my father power, if he would only feed it. Of course that old fool agreed." Donna looks back at the console, suddenly realising that it must come from the creatures ship, though she wonders what must have happened to cause it to crash like that.

"My father, he quickly realised what that thing was doing, forcing itself into peoples minds, making them obey. He built this theatre around it, ostensibly to let it heal in peace." She gestures dismissively to the architecture, clearly unimpressed. "Healing was the furthest thing from his mind. He starved it long enough that it could put up little fight, then enslaved it."

Sounds start to trickle down from the world outside. It starts quietly, but slowly grows in volume until it is more deafening than the former droning. It takes a moment before the sounds make sense to Donna's sensitive Time Lord ears, then abruptly they detangle into the sounds of feet running, scrambling madly across the floor above, and the sounds of screams and cries as the Aeckurans come to themselves. For several long minutes that is all Donna can hear, even as the woman keeps ranting at the Doctor.

"I was young, and sick of being the daughter of a rankless farmer. He grabbed at power, and when it was well-established, I grabbed it from him." The woman says, a sort of glee in her eyes and voice as she speaks of her betrayal of her own father.

There is a certain unfamiliar disgust on the Doctor's face as he looks at this person who speaks so dismissively of torture and enslavement. It sends a twinge of something into Donna's hearts, makes them contract painfully to see him so upset. Her earlier anger at him is gone, erased in the face of his mounting anger and disappointment with this woman. He always wants to see the best in people, wants to believe in the better nature of sentient species everywhere, she thinks sadly. It kills him a little every time he is proven wrong, some part of her mind whispers, heart-sick on his behalf.

Terry has been taking full advantage of the distraction provided, and has snuck up on the woman without any of them noticing. Donna only realises what he is about to do when she sees him lifting his arms. He strikes so quickly that the woman has no time to react, his arms constricting around her neck and restricting airflow. She struggles viciously, and manages to get a good knock against Terry's face before she is rendered unconscious. Terry gently lowers her to the floor, then steps back with a satisfied expression on his square face. "Well, I was sick of listening to her, anyway." He murmurs and he wipes his hands against the straight-jacket he is still wearing as if his hands are covered in something dirty.

The Doctor is looking at their son in complete surprise, his jaw just a bit slack, Donna not far behind. Terry looks at both of them in confusion. "What?" he ask, blue eyes flicking back and forth between his parents. "What, she's fine, I just knocked her out, I swear!" he exclaims when neither of them say anything. Donna tries to think of an appropriate reply, not sure she would have been as merciful, but aware that the Doctor has a rather strict view on killing.

She is distracted by the Ilk. It has started twitching again. Donna sends a quick reassuring look at her son, then hurries over to the edge of the pit. There seems to be no easy way to get down to the creature. The remains of an old ladder lay snapped at the bottom of the pit, no help at all. The Ilk is clearly not well, not at all. It squirms a bit more, and Donna realises what it is trying to do in a flash of insight that has her insides freeze. "Wait, Ilk! Please, we can help you!" she calls out, searching for another way down, which brings both of her boys attention to the creature. It is writhing, but not away from the spikes. Without the energy from the generator, something has gone loose. The Ilk is pushing against one of the spikes embedded in its flesh. Its squirming brings it to brace against some rubble. It doesn't stop once the spike is braced, rather it gives one large heave and slams its body against the spike. There is a loud squelching sound that Donna is afraid will stay with her for the rest of her life, and the Ilk moves no more.

Donna whips out her sonic and finds the appropriate setting to run a life signs scan. Her sonic, a proper emergency engineers sonic, has a setting specifically for scanning in between rubble and ruins for even a faint sign of life. It can't distinguish one from another, all life being of equal value in a rescue situation, but it should pick out the Ilk just fine. It finds the thrum-thrum-fush of an Ilk heart, but not easily. The rhythm slows significantly, even as they listen, until (35 seconds, 12 microseconds later) it completely stops. Donna hasn't been aware of the rush of Time so acutely since unclasping the Chameleon arch, and for a moment she resents it with all her being. She wants to be just Human Donna again, who wouldn't have known. It would have been just a moment, too fast for her to conceptualise properly.

The Doctor places a comforting hand on her shoulder, and is joined by Terry moments later. Donna twirls and buries her face in the Doctor's shoulder, her eyes burning with nearly repressed tears. His arms snake around her, their comforting weight helping to ground her against the helpless feeling that is forcing her eyes to water. Terry joins the embrace, both of her boys humming comforting sounds at her as they stand there.

It takes them hours to get the situation in the village under control. They've trussed up the woman who was at the centre of the whole issue in Terry's straight-jacket, and hand her over to what is left of the elders-council. It had been three planetary years since the trouble had started, and many hundreds of inhabitants of what was once a religious retreat are dead. It takes some doing to insure that the Ilk is treated with the same compassion that the other victims are shown. Eventually Donna ensures that the Ilk is burned along with the remains of the Aeckuran dead, if on a different pyre. They are all three exhausted by the time they make it back to the TARDIS'.

Donna storms in through the doors, utterly fed up with the day she has just had. She isn't much surprised when the outside door leads into BABY's console room instead of Old Girl's, certain that the TARDIS' have sensed her mood, and her need to tinker. She ignores her companions, still a bit angry at both of them, and strides purposefully down her own long corridor until she reaches the newly retrofitted workroom. The place is large and full to the brim of various doodads and doohickeys. The Tinker doesn't pause even as she notes that many of the components in here are probably stored in Old Girl, rather than BABY. The Two TARDIS' have integrated to a higher extent than she had expected, but then she hadn't ever done a full on integration like that before.

Tinker hastily clears a workspace, her mind already going through what she needs to do to improve the Sonic Screwdriver to be of more use. Perhaps if it had been able to carve stone, she thinks to herself, they might have been able to save that poor creature. The plans for various methods of doing exactly that start building in her head, before another possibility pops up and she starts work on that without pause. No need to carve if you can simply displace, The Tinker tells herself with quiet efficiency.

"Donna." the Doctor is standing in the door when Tinker looks up from where her hands are busily assembling a quantum vacillator component. There mus be something off in her expression, because the concern on his face increases. "Donna?" he asks, and there is more uncertainty in that word than there ever has been. It breaks through the haze she has descended into, if only a bit. The Tinker closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Donna opens her eyes, and meets the concern with a watery smile. "Yeah?" she asks, her voice tired and her face drawn. He looks a bit lost for a moment, tipping on the balls of his feet.

"Are you alright?" he eventually asks. Donna can't help but laugh just a bit, her utter fatigue leeching into her voice. "As alright as I always am, Spaceman." She sniffles unintentionally, and hurriedly wipes at her nose. "It would be nice if, just once, no one actually dies, y'know?" she mumbles with a sniff, not meeting his eyes. Her hands are busy again, slipping a bit of this onto that component, tweaking hither and yon. She hears him take a hesitant step, then stride towards her.

"Donna, I'm sorry." He says when he is directly by her side, as if that makes any sense at all. Donna looses her grip on the Sonic, which clatters to the workspace top noisily. She just stares at it for a moment, surprised that her hands have failed her, then turns to look at the Doctor. "Sorry?" she booms. "You're sorry?" she repeats, even as the Doctor winces and looks to the ground, the overly familiar look of guilt contorting his face. The punch to his shoulder surprises both of them. "Don't you go getting a swelled head, Spaceman," she growls out, "that there was not in any way or form, your fault." The look of guilt doesn't quite abate, much to her annoyance and private heartache. She pokes him again until he meets her eyes, big brown eyes, sad and filled with too much death, meet her own blue-gold. "Not. Your. Fault." She repeats, then pulls him into a crushing hug. He returns it, and for a moment she wonders if he hadn't said that just to have an excuse to comfort her. "Not yours either, Donna." The sneaky bastard.

She savours the physical contact more than she should, she knows that. The Tinker had never been overly physical with other Time Lords, but her time with Wilf had taught her about friendly camaraderie, about how important hugging could be. This doesn't quite feel like a friendly hug to her, she realises with surprise that she tries her best to keep from sharing. The Human Donna had loved the Doctor as much as the chameleon arch had allowed her to, but within the friend limit they had set up. It had been set up specifically to not allow herself to create too long-term attachments, in case she needed to open the fob-watch. Still, Donna swears to herself that Human-her had never felt anything like attraction to the skinny git. Time Lord Donna, on the other hand, is utterly horrified to find that there is a stirring of romantic affection.

"Donna?" the Doctor asks her again, and she suddenly realises that she has tensed up in their hug, her mental shields on full strength. He pulls back just a bit to look into her eyes with concern. "It really wasn't your fault. If we hadn't come along, who knows how long that poor Ilk would have been there. At least he is free now." He says, voice full of conviction. Donna nods absently, horrified at herself, and halfway to convincing herself that it is just stress-related. He lets loose one of those warm smiles and pulls her close again. Donna stands there and wants BABY to just swallow her up. Of course, she thinks to herself, of course she's chosen now to loose her mind.


	11. Chapter 11

For a few hours after their return to the TARDIS', it is quiet. Not eerily quiet, like it can sometimes get, but just quiet. Donna is spending some time fiddling with her Sonic in the workroom. Well, she would have, but really she is just panicking, her Sonic in hand as she paces the workroom back and forth. The Doctor had spent a short while 'comforting' her, apparently better at reading body-language than Donna has ever given him credit for, and misreading her sudden anxiety as guilt. She isn't going to disabuse him of the notion, not at all, thinks Donna to herself on her twenty-fifth circuit of the reasonably large room. Her hearts are beating a mile a minute, her palms are sweaty, and she has a distinct feeling of nausea clawing its way up her throat. She has her mental shields drawn tight around her, unwilling to share this latest humiliation with her ersatz family.

The Sonic Screwdriver twirls absently between her fingers, and makes little clickety-click sounds every now and then, when some part or other jingles lose, since she hasn't bothered to reassemble it properly yet. The Tinker, being from a proper if very minor house, had been raised to find romanticism rather vulgar. Her parent's had seemed like they loved each other, but it had been courtly love, not romance. Granted, Donna had never liked her 'mother' all that much, which might be interfering with her interpretation, but she had been a good match for her 'father' in every way that mattered.

The only role-models she had for this kind of thing were Wilf and Eileen, and later Sylvia and Geoff, and neither of those couples were all that useful examples.

"Mum, are you alright?" Terry asks from the doorway. Donna nearly jumps out of her skin in fright, but manages to keep a hold of her Sonic this time. Terry laughs a bit at her reaction, and then walks over to her and throws a long arm over her shoulders. Donna returns his half-hug, a reluctantly amused smile stretching across her face. They stand there for a moment, basking in each other's company, before he looks down at her, his kind eyes clouded with worry. "I'm fine, Terry, I'm just," she pauses in her answer, and wonders how to give a satisfactory answer that doesn't also give away her problem. "Tired." She finishes, unsuccessful in her endeavour. She doesn't fool him for a second, her motherly instinct, and isn't that an odd thing to have all of a sudden, tells her.

"Are you sure, Mum? Did the Doctor say something to upset you?" he asks her again, and Donna realises that she has never heard him refer to the Doctor as his father. "No, Sweetheart, no. He was just trying to help me with what happened on Aeckura." She explains, squeezing him gently with one arm and wondering if she should bring up his form of address. The look on his face tells her he is still sceptical of her answer. "Really, I'm just a bit tired of going on adventures where people die." She prevaricates, even more uncertain of her course of action now. She has more than herself to think of now, with Terry here. What if he doesn't want the Doctor as a father figure, she thinks a bit frantically. She then mentally scoffs at herself for thinking that far ahead.

Unfortunately, her words have a rather dramatic effect on Terry. He clutches her to his side, his blue eyes wide with a sudden fear. "You aren't leaving us, are you?" he nearly whimpers, his voice just slightly higher pitched in fear. Donna wraps her other arm around him and brings him into a real hug. "No, of course not, Terry." She murmurs into her son's shoulder. "I'm never leaving you, and I have promised to travel with the Doctor forever, you know." She tries to inject a bit of humour in her voice. There is a gentle mental prodding at her shields, and she realises that he has probably taken her mental silence a bit badly. She sighs deeply and resigns herself to her son learning her shameful secret. BABY then gently knocks against her shields as well, more tentative than he has ever really been. Donna throws her shields wide and her mental arms around them both in an echo of their physical embrace, ashamed of herself for keeping them out.

There is a sudden start of surprise from the gangly boy in her arms, then he relaxes against her. "Oh" he responds eloquently to what he senses from her. She briefly wonders if he can make more sense of her emotions than she can, and are they really that obvious that it takes her son half a moment to recognise them. Donna rolls her eyes, but resolves to handle this in an adult manner. "Yeah, oh. It happens to the best of us, no need to mention it to anyone." She says in her best no nonsense tone.

He pushes free and looks down on her with the most confused expression she has ever seen on his face. "But, mum," he says. She interrupts him before he can get any further. "No Need, Terry. Your father and I have an arrangement. We're best mates, and that's all." She says firmly, a sliver of regret making it into her voice without her permission. He doesn't look convinced. "But, mum," he tries again. Donna looks at him, trying to put the weight of her motherly authority behind her words.

"No, Terry." It is with some mild irony that Donna realises that she is channelling Sylvia in that moment, then despairs when she realises that this particular tone never worked on Donna. She's become her quasi-mother, isn't that just grand. Donna is therefor really surprised to see Terry nod reluctantly. "Alright, mum, if that's what you want." He says, and Donna chooses to ignore the disbelief in his voice. "Sometimes it isn't about what you want, Terry, it's about what you can get." She murmurs, a bit upset that she has shared something like this with her son, when she hasn't even had time to digest the discovery herself. He hums disagreeably into her hair, a sound that is echoed mentally by her BABY, but doesn't argue.

Dinner is rather tense that evening, and it seems that the Doctor is the only one who hasn't realised why. BABY and Old Girl seem to be squabbling quietly, keeping their humanoid charges out of it firmly. Terry keeps sending her these really sad looks over his chicken tikka masala, until she sends him a rather severe glare in response. Then he starts to pout, which is much more effective with his new face than it would have been if he still looked exactly like his father. She sighs huffily, which he returns with a small glare of his own. Donna acknowledges that she is having trouble with the whole 'act like an adult' portion of her plan. How would Sylvia handle this, she thinks, and resolves to take him aside to have another private conversation about this after they've eaten.

The Doctor keeps looking between the two of them, clearly understanding that something must have passed between them, and looks entirely unsure if he should interfere. Donna just looks at him for a moment, daring him to bring up the tension with a raised eyebrow the next time he flicks his gaze to her. He looks down and away once his eyes meet hers. The chicken. She is about to lay into him about his nosiness when Terry speaks up.

"Um, so, Mum, did you and," he pauses for a spilt-second, "Dad know each-other on Gallifrey?" he asks, apropos nothing at all. Donna can't help but scoff in derision, which does dispel some of the tension.

"Huh, no, sweetheart." She says with a small laugh. "I highly doubt a Lungbarrow like your father has even heard of my house, let alone me in particular." Donna says with a snort. The Doctor straightens in his chair, perking up like a puppy shown a treat. "Why? I haven't heard of you, personally, but what is your house?" he says with his usual curiosity, completely ignoring her derision towards his house. She rolls her eyes at his challenging tone. He clearly expects her to name some house that he has heard of, so he can wow them by being a bleeding know-it-all.

"I'm a Bluegrove, one of four." She throws out, entirely willing to meet his challenge. There is a moment of pure victory when a completely blank look crosses his face. "Bluegrove." He says, at a complete loss. "Yeah, Spaceman, Bluegrove." She replies smugly. Perhaps she shouldn't be smug that she comes from a tiny house with no renown, but in this instance it is rather rewarding. His eyes flicker as he stares into the middle distance, no doubt searching his memory thoroughly. Donna watches him, her smug smile melting into a fonder one as the seconds pass. "Bluegrove?" he mutters again. She just nods, and then rests her chin on her hand as he ponders. She is contemplating how sweet a victory it is when he suddenly snaps his fingers. "Wait, wait, wait, wasn't Moshdrygilden a Bluegrove?" he exclaims, much too excited by his brain-wave than is strictly appropriate in her opinion.

She lets her face fall onto the table top with a small groan. "How the hell do you know about Moshdry?" she asks, her face pressed against the wood. She doesn't have to look up to see him straighten proudly. "I had Gallifreyan History with him at the Academy." He says promptly. She groans into the wood grain.

"Who's Moshdrygilden, mum?" Terry asks curiously, the earlier pout gone from his tone. "Moshdry was my older brother." She replies. "He was loomed a few years before I was, so technically my cousin, but our parents had somewhat untraditional views on procreation. I kept being surprised that our mother never tried to breed biologically when the sterility 'curse' was cured." Donna explains, then raises her head back up and leans back in her chair. She crosses her arm, and resolves to ignore the idiotically smug look the Doctor is giving her. She is caught a bit off guard when Terry continues. "What happened to him?"

She shares an uncomfortable look with the Doctor at Terry's question. "Well, you can tell from his name. Moshdrygilden, not a title." She pauses to see if any connection is being made so she doesn't have to continue, but Terry's just looks back at her with genuine curiosity. "He took his turn at the Untempered Schism, and went mad. Completely cracked. He killed himself a few weeks before he could graduate." She finishes, a vague feeling of loss and regret passing through her. This had all happened well before she had understood about friendship and familial love. "Oh." Terry look a bit stunned, so she reaches out a comforting hand, and a comforting thought once their skin meets.

Donna refuses to acknowledge the surge of relief when the TARDIS' signals that they've arrived at Chiswick. She stands a bit faster than she intends, then strides out to the console room, glad to be done with the subject. The Tinker had been fond of her brother, in the same remote manner she had been fond of her family. She hadn't realised that there was more to family until Wilfred Mott had taught her so, many years later. It made her uncomfortable to think of how detached they had all been, now that she knows better. Donna strides directly past the consoles and throws open the door, fully intending to keep walking until she reaches the Mott-Noble home.

"Oh, for the love of all!" she shouts in frustration, throwing up her hands in disgust at the sight that meets her. The sound of running feet herald her companions. Terry and the Doctor come to a stop besides her, a wide panicked look that is really endearingly similar, on both of their faces. The trio stand there, once again looking out at a place that is definitely not Chiswick.


	12. Chapter 12

Donna looks at the scenery just outside of the door to the TARDIS', then turns and backhands the Doctor's arm. "Really, Spaceman?" she barks, "I know that the navigation-systems work, you plonker! Am I really going to have to give you driving lessons?" she asks, trying to put as much of the disbelief she is feeling into her voice.

"What? No!" he responds indignantly, flinging his hands out in emphasis. "I have been flying Old Girl for over seven hundred years, Donna. I don't need lessons!" Donna doesn't believe that, doesn't think even he believes that. "Oh, really? Then maybe I should take over, because something keeps going wrong when you navigate!" she yells into his face. She then quickly steps back and into the TARDIS', hoping that neither of the men in her life notice the sudden flush across her cheeks and hears her hearts fluttering like mad over her proximity to the Doctor.

She stomps over to the main console, double checks the Time rotors, triple checks the coordinates that the Doctor has entered. The Doctor strides over and stands just a few steps back from her, arms crossed over his chest defensively. Donna ignores him, or tries to. The sudden awareness of her feelings has made this much harder than it should be, and there is at least a few mental processes keeping tabs on the Doctor at all times now. Actually, weren't they always there? She wonders to herself, and then pushes the thought as deeply into the recesses of her mind as she can.

Emotions were so much easier to deal with when she was just human, she contemplates sullenly, without centuries of repression in her baggage. It had been hard enough figuring out how to deal with the friendship she felt for Wilf, those first few months they travelled together. Dealing with this realisation was a hell of endless mortification.

"Donna, are you alright?" the Doctor asks softly, and walks over to stand beside her. She gives him a questioning look, then looks back at the readouts. "You've seemed a bit angry lately," he pauses for a moment "with me, I mean. More so."

She hates the self-doubt that seeps from her friend, and herself for putting it there. Donna fidgets for a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and then turns a somewhat strained smile on the Doctor. "I'm not angry with you, Doctor. I might be having a spot of trouble remembering how to handle emotions the Time Lord way." She explains, then turns her attention back to the console. "Well," she drawls in an attempt to divert his attention from the admission, "it looks like you've put in the right commands, so I really don't know why we aren't in Chiswick. Sorry about that." She says with a negligent flick of her hair, in an approximation of her usual tone.

He reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. His dark eyes are serious when he speaks. "Why would you want to?" he asks in that tone of his that is both sympathetic and bewildered, and Donna loves him a bit more for it. She has no idea how to explain it to him, this odd and confusing swirl of emotions that the Time Lord in her wants to control, while the human she has been for thirty-some years wants to live. "Because I don't know how to do it the human way anymore, not with all these thought!" she exclaims, and turns away from him.

"Who am I, Doctor?" she asks him her voice trembling just slightly. "You are Donna, Donna Noble." He answers after a brief pause, clearly believing he is stating the obvious and no less bewildered now. "Am I? I was The Tinker for centuries before I was Donna Noble." She pauses, fighting to find the right words to express her confusion. "Everything was so much easier when I was just silly unimportant Donna, but I'm not anymore. I don't know who I am."

The Doctor looks at her as if she's lost her mind. "Donna, you were never unimportant." He says with conviction, placing both of his hands on her shoulders as if he is going to shake her. "You were never unimportant." He repeats, stressing 'never' heavily, his voice a little rough.

"You are Donna Noble, and you are The Tinker as well. Coming back from a chameleon arch after living under one for a while is hard, I know, but the person underneath was still you. At your core, you are just as much Donna Noble as the Tinker." He explains firmly. "The thoughts, the feelings, the memories, the coping mechanisms, they are real." She stares at him for a while, searching for any doubt in his face and finding none.

Before the silence can get awkward, he cracks a fond smile. "Trust me, I'm a Doctor." Donna returns the smile with a watery one of her own, then straightens and tells herself to pull herself together. "Well, enough with this chitchat, Spaceman." She says with a slight sniffle that she tries to hide by clearing her throat. "We might as well see where we've ended up this time." The Doctor offers up his arm, which Donna takes with a grin, and they stride back out of the door, arms linked.

Terry is poking at what looks like a pretty basic terminal just in front of where the TARDIS' is parked. It looks familiar, but for a minute she can't quite place it. Then her eye catches on to a metal plaque with a string of numbers, then a red digital calendar-clock.

Messaline. They are on Messaline.

The pit of her stomach doesn't drop out, but it is a near thing. It's been months since they lost Jenny, but the grief is still close to the surface, and Donna is having a hard time understanding why the Old Girl would bring them here. Surely she understands how hard this is on them, Donna wonders, eyes blankly looking at the glowing red numbers denoting the date. There is something tickling at the edge of her mind, her sense of personal time being battered by universal time. It hasn't been months since they were here, she realises with a pang. It has been mere minutes.

The Doctor is at her side, tense and unhappy. His eyes are fixed on the clock as if he can make it change- as if the sense of Time that makes them Time Lords can change the date. He is silent as a stone, even when they are approached by the colonists. They must have heard the TARDIS' re-materialise, thinks Donna, even as she greets them. There is only one way for her to answer their questions.

"We would like to attend Jenny's funeral." She says solemnly to the young man who speaks to them first, the same one Jenny had taken a liking to. He nods sadly and leads the procession back to the Theatre where they had left Jenny. Donna's hearts clench harshly at the sight of her lain out on a bier, still dressed in the green fatigues that she had been born, and died, in. The three of them walk over and stand at her side, silent and solemn in their grief. Terry has never seen her before, not really, but Donna can feel his stark sense of loss as he stands by his half-sister's side. He gently reaches out and rearranges a lock of blond hair, gentle as if he is afraid to disturb her slumbering form.

Perhaps rightly so. As soon as Terry's hand touches Jenny, her mouth falls open and releases a cloud of golden regenerative energy that should be frankly impossible. Terry freezes, hand still extended halfway between them, but the Doctor is moving a spilt second later, his Sonic Screwdriver flashing. He runs scan after scan in less than a minute, all the while muttering 'Impossible, impossible' under his breath. He turns to Donna with a frantic expression on his face. "She is trying to regenerate. Donna, I don't know how, but she is trying to regenerate." He says in a bewildered hopeful panic. Donna snaps out of her stupor, and brings out her Sonic to run her own scans. She gets the same results as the Doctor does, except... "I don't think she has enough energy, Doctor." She says faintly, eyes on the young woman who has started glowing faintly. Too faintly.

Tears are pooling freely in her eyes at this point, and a feeling of how utterly unfair this is to her friend. Without enough regenerative energy, all Jenny can do is burn up. It'll crush the Doctor, Donna knows, to lose her again, and like this. A cruel loss, giving hope and then taking it away in the same breath. The Doctor hasn't looked at her, still trying for a solution, his mutterings gone inaudible even for a Time Lord. "No, no, we can save her, Donna." He says suddenly in the tense quiet that has descended on the room, turning and meeting her eyes with a look that is so hopeful that Donna's hearts break a little. A few tears slip free of her control, but she nods anyway. "Alright. Tell me what to do." She agrees.

He claps his hands together, then gestures for Terry to step back. Their son does as he is bid, looking every bit as upset as Donna feels. There is a tiny glint in his eyes when Donna looks at him, as if his father's hope is enough to wake his own. The Doctor looks up at her, suddenly more serious than hopeful. "Remember how Terry was born?" he asks her, then continues before she can answer. "We need to do that again, a controlled release of regenerative energy into her system, like I did with the hand. She'll have to regenerate properly, her body has taken too much damage by the length of time she has been," he pauses and gestures wordlessly to the still form. "But we can do it, Donna. If we share it between us, we can save her." He says firmly, and clasps her hand in his, already glowing with the energy he is dredging up.

"Doctor, I don't remember how, not anymore. I've only regenerated once." She tries to explain in a desperate panic. He doesn't answer verbally, his mind surging against hers and pulling up the memory of the meta-crisis in blinding detail. Donna gasps, the small link between them suddenly growing at an exponential rate and filling her head with exactly what she needs to do. She follows his lead, and feels the burning sensation of a regeneration start at the tips of her fingers. The world is engulfed in a brilliant golden light.

The hand that the Doctor is clasping burns with the fire of Vesuvius, and for a moment Donna can't hold it in. The Doctor pulls her back from the edge of regenerating herself, and shows her how to do this, how to force it where they want it to go. It's not easy, not at all. It feels like trying to push back against a tsunami, but somehow they manage. The blinding golden light flows from them and into the still form on the bier. Jenny is engulfed completely is barely a moment. Donna keeps pouring energy into her for several moments before she feels the Doctor pull her back. 'That's enough, Donna.' He whispers mentally, the thought tinged with exhaustion.

She comes back to the present, her time sense telling her that barely thirty seconds have passed, to see Terry staring at them in what might be disbelief. Behind them, a group of colonists are bowing down to the ground as if in prayer.

The golden light around Jenny is slowly dispersing, leaving a clearly breathing Jenny behind. The first thing Donna notices about this new regeneration is that she is ginger, the same exact colour as Terry and herself. Her face looks almost exactly like it did, if rather covered in freckles where there had been pale skin before. Her nose is also slightly more aquiline that it was. Donna can't help but stare.

"She looks just like you." The Doctor says, a note of giddy relief and amazement in his voice. "Ginger, she's ginger!" he exclaims, and pulls Donna into an excited hug. Terry joins in on her other side, and the three of them stand there for a moment, looking down on their miracle.


	13. Chapter 13

There is a certain bond between a daughter and her father, Donna muses as she watches the Doctor look over Jenny. Donna had been the closest with Geoff, she remembers fondly, of her foster parents. There is a slight worry in her, that she wont develop a proper maternal bond with Jenny, that Jenny will prefer the Doctor being her lone parent. After all, Jenny didn't see her that way, hadn't before. It's a bit stupid, but Donna can't shake it. She hadn't been close to either of her mothers, and had never developed a filial link to the Bluegrove matriarch.

Jenny's not quite awake yet, drowsy with regeneration sickness, her now brown eyes looking around the theatre without any focus or recognition. Red hair, brown eyes. She's beautiful, Donna thinks, gently running a hand across the girl's forehead. There can be little doubt that she's passed some genetic material along during the assisted regeneration.

Last time they had been here, Donna had joked about 'dad-shock' at the Doctor's expense. Perhaps she's been in 'mom-shock' since Terry created their bond, since he claimed her as his mother. Her emotions had certainly been all over the place. Heck, she's been reeling emotionally since the Earth was stolen. It's a wonder that she's managed to keep it as together as she has.

"Mum, um, I think we might have a problem." Terry whispers, and breaks her out of her introspection, nearly leaning into her side and thrumming with a mixture of awe and some anxiety. The noise levels in the room have increased somewhat since their entry, and Donna realises why when she turns to look at her son. Out of the corner of her eye she notices movement. A lot of movement, and the murmurs of people who are trying to be quiet. Donna freezes for a millisecond, trying to think of how their rescue of Jenny would have looked to the uninitiated, and then turns her head to look over her shoulder. Donna blinks in surprise at the sight that meets her eyes, then closes her eyes and takes a deep calming breath.

A crowd has assembled.

There are small groups, human and hath alike, around the edges of the room murmuring excitedly, but being very quiet about it. The benches in the centre of the room are filling slowly, people in the smaller groups breaking off and sitting down at random intervals. All eyes are on the quartet of Time Lords on the small stage. Oh shite, thinks Donna. There is a rather uncomfortable likeness to their previous adventure happening here.

The young man that Jenny had taken a liking to steps forward when he notices Donna's attention has drifted to the crowd. She and Terry share a slightly disturbed look, then Donna turns to meet the young man as he walks up to them. A quick glance behind her shows that the Doctor is completely engulfed in running a med-check on Jenny.

The boy doesn't speak. He drops down on his knees in front of Donna and Terry, and prostrates himself. He is joined by several others. Donna brings a hand up and rubs at her face with a groan. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asks him with a clear dose of exasperation in her tone. "Get up from there." She demands when he doesn't respond. The boy scrambles to his feet, a bewildered look on his still-smiling face. The others follow more slowly, apparently confused by the command. One Hath has to be prodded. He meets her eyes for several seconds, a gleeful smile on his face, before abruptly dropping his eyes to look at her feet. Terry snorts out a small laugh, still leaning slightly against her right shoulder. Donna gives him a chiding look over her shoulder before she turns her attention back to silent boy in front of her.

"Well?" she demands. The boy startles and looks up at her again with wide worshipful eyes. "I- uh, that is, I'm showing respect?" he asks in a tone that clearly communicates that he has no idea. "To the Mother Goddess?" he continues when Donna doesn't react beyond a cocked eyebrow. Donna purses her lips to keep from laughing. Terry is practically sobbing into her shoulder with his effort to keep his own laughter under control. Donna can't help but look back to see if the Doctor has caught this. He looks up from Jenny just then, but doesn't seem to have a clue about what is going on. He is nearly glowing across their link with happiness. Jenny is sitting up on the bier now, a bit wobbly, but getting better.

Donna accidentally meets Terry's eyes, and they both lose it completely. The boy is looking at them with a careful grin, as if he isn't sure if he is allowed to laugh along, while Donna and Terry laugh themselves sick. She can barely breathe, even with her respiratory bypass. By the time the Doctor and Jenny make their way over to see what the fuss is about, Donna and Terry are both crying with laughter, calming down only to set each other off again when their eyes meet.

"What's going on?" the Doctor asks with a grin as he joins them, casually slinging one arm around Donna's shoulders, the other pulling Jenny along and keeping her reasonably steady. That sets Donna and Terry off again. The Doctor has a large, if somewhat bewildered, grin on his face when Donna finally manages to get herself under control. Terry is giggling helplessly into his hands. Donna asks the young man to repeat himself, unable to trust herself to say it without breaking into another fit of laughter.

"I just told Her Holiness that I was showing her respect?" the boy tries to explain. The Doctor looks at Donna questioningly. "Her Holiness?" he asks gamely. The boy nods eagerly. "Yes, the Mother Goddess." He says and gestures respectfully at Donna. The Doctor grins a bit wider and nods knowingly at the boy.

"Ah, yes. The Mother Goddess here." He says and tightens the arm around her shoulders. "Very good Mother Goddess, Donna is. Shes given me two children already." He says. There is nothing across their diminishing link to indicate insincerity, just happiness and some slight tinge of humour. Donna doesn't have time to think anything of it, because in the next moment the Doctor is dragging Jenny and her towards the door, gesturing for Terry to follow with a flick of the head. "Well, the Mother Goddess, the children, and I really need to be going now. Ta!" He calls out. The mystified crowd parts to make room for the Time Lords as they stride out, Jenny stumbling groggily and Terry giggling madly the entire way back to the TARDIS'.

They manage to get Jenny situated in the med-bay reasonably quickly. She falls asleep almost instantly, which Terry seems to take as permission to go off to his own room, stopping just long enough to hug Donna warmly on his way out. "Night, mum." He murmurs, his voice a bit rough from laughter. She half-hugs him and accept the small kiss to her cheek with a smile. "Goodnight, Terry," She replies. "Oi, your dad too." She reminds him when he's already halfway out the door. The Doctor looks up from the readouts that he's studying with a distracted 'hmm?', but returns the offered hug earnestly.

"Y'know, if he doesn't want to call me that, he doesn't have to." The Doctor says quietly, several minutes later. Donna isn't sure how to respond to that, and spends a few seconds smoothing out Jenny's blankets. "You're his father." She ends up saying. The Doctor nods, but doesn't look at her. "He was made from me, yes, and I would love to claim him as mine." He starts, Donna interrupts. "What do you mean? don't you have a parental link?" He looks up hesitantly, then shakes his head 'no'. Donna is stunned. "Why not?"

The Doctor looks at her pensively. "Well, you have to understand..." he trails off, searching for words. "He doesn't have most of my memories, not anymore. However, I think there is some emotional transference." He says slowly. Donna nods encouragingly, not sure where he's going with this. He drops the eye-contact and fidgets a bit. Donna can't help but think he looks adorable, even when he is uncomfortable. She would have rolled her eyes at herself, if they weren't in the middle of an actual adult conversation.

"I don't necessarily have the best opinion of myself, you see." Her friend continues, "and the vestiges of that might come out as resentment in Terry." The Time Lord explains, a faint blush spreading up his neck. The Doctor meets her eyes, his own full of old shame. "I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of, Donna, I've killed a lot of people. I don't blame him for not jumping with joy over having me for a father."

Donna walks over and draws him into a hug, resting her face on his shoulder and feeling him do the same. "Don't be stupid, Spaceman. I know he feels nothing of the sort." Donna murmurs into his neck. "We've both done stuff that we're not proud of. He knows better than that, or he would resent me too." She says softly, rocking the two of them slightly. There is a disbelieving snort against her skin that sends tingles down her spine. She tenses and tamps down her reaction reflexively, then relaxes into his arms again. "Have you forgotten Pompeii? I pushed that button right along with you. I killed those 10.000 people just as surely as you did." She murmurs, trying not to notice the fact that he smells quite nice actually.

"Donna, I've done a lot more than that." He replies quietly, but there is relief and comfort flowing sluggishly across their small link, physical contact strengthening the nearly dormant link. Donna feels a surge of longing for the deeper connection that they had shared not a few hours ago. The Doctor doesn't react to it, to her relief.


	14. Chapter 14

Donna is continuously surprised at the gaps in Jenny's Knowledge. Her newly ginger daughter knows a great deal about war and weapons, but the strangest things make her stumble.

"Is this right, Donna?" Jenny asks from the changing room. They've stopped off at the Groanick Intergalactic Mall, sometime in the 47th century to stock up the wardrobe. It may hold a great many things, but Donna holds the firm belief that a girl should have at least a few specially bought items available. This great moon-sized mall seemed the best place to get that done, or that's what the Doctor had claimed. She had been sceptical at first, but a quick scan of the place, still safe in the TARDIS' had calmed her nerves. There didn't seem to be a single thing happening here, except what could be happening in any mall, anywhere in the galaxy.

Donna tilts her head in past the privacy screen to have a look. Jenny is looking skeptically at the way somewhat baggy shirt is hanging on her frame. "I think it might be a size or two larger than you need, Jenny." She supplies as Jenny twists to get a better view in the wall-mirror. The younger woman turns to look at her in confusion.

"But the tag says that it is the same size as that blue one." She says and points to a lovely tunic that they have purchased in a different shop. Donna pauses in her automatic reply, a bit stymied at how to explain that clothing-sizes still haven't been standardised for humanoid shapes. She tries to explain, but she doesn't quite see why the discrepancies haven't been dealt with by now, so it comes off rather convoluted. The Time Lord part of her just wont admit to not knowing such a simple thing.

Her explanation is cut off by a loud crack that echoes through the mall, even above the noise of the thousands of people shopping. Donna turns towards the sound, her mind filling with dread. Knowing their luck, this will be something serious. Jenny sticks her head out of the changing booth a few seconds later. "Donna? What was that?"

Before she can respond, a second and third shot ring out, followed by the sound of screams and panic starting somewhere not far off from where they are. "Put on your own shirt, darling, we need to find the boys." Donna tells her, already packing up their previous purchases and stuffing them in her dimensionally transcendental pockets.

They barely make it out of the shop before the rushing crowd overtakes them and they are swept up. Donna grabs a desperate hold of Jenny's hand, but the seething crowd rips their hands apart and they are separated within minutes. She tries to yell to the younger woman but the sheer panicked noise drowns out her voice. Jenny reaches for her, fear painted on her face, but is pulled away from her. Donna loses track of Jenny soon after.

There are alcoves through out the mall, places for cash-points, toilettes, pay-phones, that are the same as any mall in all of time and space. Donna manages to slip into one, fighting through the beings running for their lives. By the time she reaches an alcove, she has a black eye from a stray limb, a torn shirt, and a terrible temper. She takes a moment to catch her breath, mind ablaze with anger and fear for her family, and the telepathic bleed through of a riot. Her head pounds with it.

Her sonic buzzes wildly in her hand as she starts to scan the area, waving it in the general direction that she expects Jenny went. The boys are together, as far as she knows, but her youngest has nothing to prepare for something like this. A riot of thousands is vastly different from a small civil war on Messaline, and Jenny's new regeneration does not have the same instincts that her original body would have. She has to be Donna's primary concern.

The Sonic beeps with an irritant tone. Donna checks the read out. Jenny is nearly a mile west of her position, closer to the TARDIS'. A second beep tells her that the Doctor is running a scan not too far away, north west of her. She runs a quick program to send him her coordinates along with a small message that she is searching for Jenny. A surge of agreement flashes through her mind from their bond, and a short message beeps in. 'Terry is w/ me. Meet at Tardis.'

The crowds are still surging wildly around her. Beings of all sort are rushing blindly past her, though a few are seeking refuge in the alcoves near by. A few shove their way in with her, though apparently her temper is enough that there is a distinct gap between them and Donna. For a moment she is at a loss to know how to react, how to go about making her way through the tides panic. She steels her spine with a deep breath, and throws a glance at the huddle of frightened beings. There is a great deal of fear in their expressions. If Jenny hadn't needed her, Donna would have thought to do something for them. As it is, she barely gives their plight a thought and pushes through the crowd, face thunderous and anxiety thrumming through her veins.

More shots have the crowd surging, sending her slightly off course and pushing her into a wall. For a moment she is afraid that she will be crushed to death, into a new body. The thought makes her a bit nauseous, remembering all too well the strangeness that had gripped her and kept her off balance for months after she had gotten this body. It makes her angry. She whirls around, back against the wall and forces herself to take a deep breath against the fear, then scans the crowds again, quickly locking on to Jenny's signal.

'Mum!' Terry's mental voice rings through her mind as she weaves and ducks to get towards her wayward daughter. 'Mum, Dad is hurt!' Her son floods her mind with the sight of the Doctor being flung against a wall, barely in sight, and then fall to the floor unconscious, swiftly overrun by the crowd. Donna's hearts stutter horribly in her chest at the sight, and she struggles against the urge to change direction and rush towards him, her breath leaving her with a painful sucking sensation.

Jenny needs her, she thinks to herself firmly, heedless of the tears that are streaming down her face. There is a muddled sort of response to the mental probe she sends the Doctor, enough to tell her that at least he is alive and waking up. She feels downright faint with relief, even if she can't quite release her worry. The Doctor will be fine, she knows, he is after all a grown Time Lord. She repeats the thought to herself a few times, and tries to ignore the little voice that snorts in disbelief.

Donna sends a thought towards her son, not quite reassurance but as close as she can get at the moment, then pushes forward again, fast this time, less careful of the other beings. Her family is in trouble, she can't think of anything else at the moment.

It takes her a while before she spots a familiar head of red hair in the crowd, and even then she checks it with the Sonic to make sure it really is Jenny before pushing to get to her. Just as she reached Jenny, the girl turns around as if sensing her arrival. Her face is full of fear and confusion, but as soon as their eyes meet, they fill with relief.

"Mum!"

Donna can barely hear her over the churning masses, but the mental probe that is launched at her along with the words is unmissable. As soon as contact is established, before Donna can get more than a step closer to the girl, Jenny lashes her mind onto Donna's in a familiar bind.

'Mum!'Jenny calls to her mentally, a mix of fear of the circumstances and a child's certainty that 'Mum will fix this' flowing from her.

Donna pushes harder at the crowd, determined to get to her daughter and utterly heedless of who might be in her way. Mentally she is shoring up the fledgling gossamer link, pouring reassurance and love into it, tying it down next to the link she shares with Terry. Just across from it, the slight golden thread that connects her to the Doctor vacillates worryingly. Donna doesn't let more than a fraction of her mind focus on that.

"Jenny!" she calls out, and viciously elbows some tall being that tries to push her along the flow of the crowd. She pulls the young woman into her arms as soon as she is close enough, and turns her slightly to shelter Jenny with her body. There are numerous knocks against their bodies, elbows and other limbs flying in the panic. She needs to shelter her daughter. The physical contact cements the nascent bond in a rush and she finds herself a mother of a terrified teenage daughter. "Shhh, Jenny. We'll be fine, we just need to get back to the TARDIS' and track the boys, alright?"

It seems the bond, or perhaps her presence, reassures Jenny much more than Donna expected it to, because suddenly Jenny feels a lot less afraid. She releases Donna with a shade of the bright smile she wore a lifetime ago, brown eyes scanning Donna's face with worry that the girl can't quite hide. "Alright, Mum."

Part of Donna is awed that this young woman has such faith in her, a bigger part is concerned with getting them out of this alive and in the same bodies that they arrived in. Her eye is swelling, but it hasn't shut yet. Everything is sore and her legs feel like she's been running for hours instead of pushing through a riot, but she isn't seriously injured. They'll be fine.

Donna wraps one arm around Jenny's waist, and uses the other to grab her Sonic Screwdriver. First thing she does is run a quick scan of Jenny, but somehow the girl has escaped any injury. The relief is pushed aside for now as she scans for a route to their destination. They've drifted a bit away from the TARDIS' again.

They start moving in the right direction, but it takes much longer that either of them are comfortable with, drudging through the swirling eddies and fast moving streams of people, fighting against a current only to be swept along like flotsam in a stream by the next. The noise is still deafening, but as time passes it becomes less panicked. Anger and confusion are replacing the fear. In shops, corners, and alcoves, large groups of standing people break up the rush like islands, frightened people clumping together.

Just as they finally reach the TARDIS', Donna notices a Judoon out of the corner of her eye. A quick turn of the head reveals a group of them, and more off in the distance. They seem to be trying to restore order, herding people around and setting up check-points. She hurries to pull Jenny into the TARDIS', shutting the doors in the faces of some curious onlookers, then runs a tired hand across her face. The bonds she shares with Terry and the Doctor have been worryingly quiet since she found Jenny. Donna tries not to let the pit of anxiety in her gut expand enough that Jenny will feel it.

"Mum, what's going on?" Jenny asks, all full to the brim with bewilderment and worry, and pulls her out of her milling thoughts, unintentionally spilling them across their newly formed bond.

Donna brings up a hand to massage her temple against the ache that has started there, then shakes her head in answer to Jenny's question. "I don't know, Darling, though from the sound of weapon-fire, I think we can assume that whatever it was, it didn't go too well." She says with a strained smile. She walks up to the console and starts the scanners up, uploading the last readings from her Sonic Screwdriver as she goes. "Whatever it was, we need to find your father and Terry."


End file.
